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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25516732">Our Brightest Lives</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lar_laughs/pseuds/lar_laughs'>lar_laughs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>My Engineer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, fear makes people do funny things, king is tired, often love and fear go hand in hand, plant children need love too, ram is demisexual, ram starts boxing again, ram's tattoos are the very best thing, ting ting is always right</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:29:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,327</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25516732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lar_laughs/pseuds/lar_laughs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>despite knowing<br/>they won't be here for long<br/>they still choose to live<br/>their brightest lives<br/>sunflowers</p><p>-rupi kaur</p><p>Set after Season 1 - COMPLETE FIC</p><p>They should have said the words. They should have pushed in through the cracks of each other's lives so there was no way to separate one from the other. Now, is it too late?</p><p>(AKA Ram takes up boxing again to make some fast cash, King has brain surgery, and life gets dark for a time)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>King/Ram (My Engineer)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>115</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Hardest Part of Waiting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is one of the ideas I have for what happens after Season 1. I've read some of the book and incorporated some of it into my head canon. I know the series will probably stay light and happy but I wanted to get a little dark.</p><p>Also, this is only my second Thai BL drama so I'm still not as fluent with the language and the culture. Please give grace if I mess something up. I'm learning!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nine days passed and still King didn’t come back to the condo. Ram made gentle inquiries, but he couldn’t find out anything about his missing senior. Whatever was keeping him away was strong enough that he hadn’t even been by to check on the plants. This was serious.</p><p>During those lonely days, Ram argued it out in his head. Sometimes, he got so frustrated he even spoke out loud but he was afraid of offending the gentler plants so tried to keep his stronger emotions to himself. All he was succeeding in doing was making himself sick with worry and fear.</p><p>This was his fault. He was convinced of it now. There was no possible way that he hadn’t done something to offend King. He thought they were friends. Maybe he was still getting this friend thing wrong.</p><p>On the tenth day, Duen noticed something was wrong as they ate lunch together between classes. “You look pale. Are you sick?”</p><p>“I’m not sick,” Ram assured him but he thought about giving in and using a trip to the medical center as an excuse to get away from the group of discerning eyes that were now all turned toward him.</p><p>If they’d been alone or if it had only been Phu, he might have gotten away with it. Both Tingting and Tang stared at him with eyes that saw entirely too much. “He’s not sick,” TingtIng declared with a small frown. “He’s sad.”</p><p>“I’m not-”</p><p>But Tang leaned forward, peering into his face with a deeper frown. “Something is definitely wrong. Your eyes are haunted.”</p><p>“It’s just family stuff,” Ram insisted, pulling his bag onto his lap in case a chance presented itself for an easy getaway. These friends didn’t know specifics but they knew that he’d had a falling out with his father.</p><p>Tingting was shaking her head. “No. This is different from family stuff. Family stuff makes you look stressed. This isn’t stressed. Tang is right. You look haunted.”</p><p>“I think he looks fine,” Phu commented but he didn’t look like he believed his own words. “We should all go back to eating before we need to head to class.”</p><p>She rounded on the stammering boy who now looked like he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “What do you know? You hang with the seniors sometimes. What’s going on with them.” The implied <i>with King</i> was unsaid but everyone heard it. They all knew the only reason Ram would look haunted. There was no way he could deny it now.</p><p>Phu looked uncomfortable. “They’re fine. They’re all fine. Busy with school. Like all of us.”</p><p>Duen spoke up, his whole face broadcasting his frown. “Why don’t you ask me? Wouldn’t I be the one to know the seniors the best since I’m dating one of them?”</p><p>“Fine. Answer this question correctly and I’ll only ask you questions about the seniors from now on.” Ting Ting narrowed her eyes as she contemplated the boy sitting across the table. He suddenly squirmed, a fly being watched by a hungry spider. “At lunch yesterday, Bohn bought you a juice. The person sitting across the table from you had the same kind of juice. Who was it?”</p><p>“Across the table?”</p><p>The group started laughing, mostly because Deun was adorable as he tried to remember anything that wasn’t directly related to Bohn. He mostly looked embarrassed but waved Tingting back to her questioning of Phu.</p><p>“I don’t know how to answer you,” he responded when Tingting asked her question again. “What do you want me to say? That King looks as bad as Ram? I’m sure he’s fine.”</p><p>Everyone turned back to stare at Ram, waiting for him to do something. He wasn’t sure what they wanted from him. Was he supposed to start crying? Screaming about how painful it was that King was fine and he was so broken inside that he could barely stay upright, his body wanting to find a place to curl up and die? Did they want him to act like he didn’t care? No, that wasn’t going to work because he’d tried that and no one believed him.</p><p>Ram didn’t realize a panic attack was starting until Tang fished out a handkerchief from the pocket of his bag, wetting it down with some bottled water before handing it over to Duen who placed it against Ram’s neck.</p><p>“What’s that for?” he wheezed, realizing that he couldn’t catch his breath. </p><p>“Just breathe,” Tingting sighed. She unhooked the fuzzy bear keychain hanging from her bag, handing it over so Ram had something to pet since his dogs weren’t nearby. “I don’t like to interfere but-”</p><p>“Since when?” Tang interrupted, earning a death stare. “Admit it. You’ve been looking for an opening to be able to meddle in Ram and King’s relationship.”</p><p>Ram’s breath hitched at the word <i>relationship</i>. Was he in a relationship? Or, rather, had he been in a relationship? He didn’t think he was in one right now.</p><p>“Yes, you are.” When Duen answered his questions, Ram realized he’d said all that out loud. His cheeks felt hot. “Don’t worry. Sometimes it feels like you aren’t or that you never were. But that’s mostly just nerves. It’s going to get better. It will.”</p><p>But Ram didn’t think his friend was right this time.</p><p>***</p><p>On day thirteen, Ram needed to stop at the library. He knew it was a dangerous location but it wasn’t until he saw King sitting by himself at a table near the windows that he realized just how much of a mistake it truly was. He should have taken another way past this table because this was King’s favorite spot. It was the best place to internalize the words on the page, he’d always said, because he could see green, growing things at the same time.</p><p>All Ram could do was stare. He’d forgotten what he was doing in this building or why he’d told himself over and over that he would walk in, get the book, and walk out. He memorized the line of the man’s jaw, noticing the paleness of his skin. Had he not been out in the sun recently? There was no tuft of gauze sticking out of his hair which meant the stitches had come out but he was absent-mindedly rubbing at the spot. Was it sore? Did it itch?</p><p>The shirt King was wearing wasn’t one of his own but that wasn’t surprising. It might have been Tee’s or even Mek’s. Who was he staying with if he wasn’t staying at the condo? Were they feeding him? Making sure he slept instead of staring at his books all night long?</p><p>King turned his head, looking up to meet Ram’s gaze and then letting his eyes flicker down again. Ram thought he saw a flicker of a smile or, at the very least recognition. When King looked up again, though, there was nothing in his face. Nothing in his eyes. His gaze swept over Ram like he wasn’t even there.</p><p>Ram’s chin fell to his chest, willing himself to breath normally. He didn’t know how to fix this situation so King would look at him again with those warm, fathomless eyes and the wide, bright smile. At this point, King could have said anything and Ram would have fallen on his knees in front of him in thankfulness to once again be a part of his life.</p><p><i>I should not have kissed you,</i> he wanted to say. <i>I should have kept my emotions to myself and been happy to be your friend. That’s all I ever wanted. I just want to be in your life. I don’t need anything else.</i></p><p>When he looked up again, another boy was sitting across from King, bathed in that wide, bright smile. It was a smile for everyone. It didn’t mean anything special. Certainly not what Ram had always thought it meant.</p><p>Ram turned and ran from the library. He kept running until he got back to the condo. He put on a hoodie, not even acknowledging that this was the hoodie he’d always worn when he was training back when he was younger. He could hide when he was wearing this. His running shoes were at the bottom of the closet where he’d thrown them when he’d taken them out of the bag on that first night. Since coming here, he hadn’t needed them. Now, he laced them up without giving it another thought.</p><p>Miles of pavement later, he fell into a deep sleep on the couch in the condo. This wasn’t right. None of it felt right. But he was too tired to think about it. Too tired to care.</p><p>***</p><p>That night, his mom called in a panic. His dad had left a note on the kitchen counter that he was taking a trip with “a friend” and would be packing up his things when he got back. The rent on the house was paid up through the end of next month.</p><p>“What are you going to do?” he asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.</p><p>“I... I don’t know.”</p><p>“I’m coming home. We’ll figure it-”</p><p>“You have classes. You need to stay-”</p><p>“No,” he interrupted, his voice firm as he spoke in English. “I’m coming home. You won’t go through this alone.”</p><p>“Thank you,” she answered, also in English.</p><p>The spark of hate that he’d harbored for his father blossomed and grew into a ferocious beast. Its teeth and jaws aching to rip into someone, inflicting misery that rivaled his own. Before he could control it, the best found the fragile stalk of hope that King was nurturing in his heart... tearing it from the roots, gnashing and shredding until the plant was lying in ruined tatters.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day Thirteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>King's had his own share of trials and tribulations but he's okay. Always okay. That's just how he gets through the day. Everything is okay.</p><p>Until it is no longer okay.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was an uneasiness in the pit of King’s stomach. All day, he’d had the feeling that he should have stayed in bed. So far, he was moving cautiously through his day, trying to figure where the upset was going to happen. In fifteen minutes, classes would be over for the day and he could head back to the pillow fort he’d concocted in the corner of Tee’s room since being discharged from the hospital.</p><p>It was the kind of day outside that had everyone staring out the windows but King didn’t dare let himself get distracted. He’d already missed several days of classes. There hadn’t been a reprimand from the teachers but he didn’t dare give them a reason to look on him unfavorably now. The semester had only just started.</p><p>When it was time to leave, he stayed in his seat as the rest of the students streamed out. He should pack up and leave, as well, but the silence was nice.</p><p>
  <i>Coward!</i>
</p><p>He’d kept his inner voice quiet when he was in the hospital. There wasn’t a lot he remembered right after his grandmother had rushed him to the rural clinic and then he was transported to a larger hospital. The infection had kept him insensible for several days. After that, he’d been weak and far too lethargic to call anyone. </p><p>When he was finally ready to be discharged, he’d called Bohn because... well, he knew Bohn wouldn’t say anything if he asked him to keep quiet. It would just be easier than having to explain that he’d been far sicker than he’d let on while they’d been camping. Not only would it be admitting that Ram had been right and he should haven’t have gone, but there would also have to be an explanation of why he hadn’t called during his entire convalescence. Or when he’d gotten back to Bangkok. Or to school. Or now.</p><p>Fear was a funny thing. Normally, King was able to face his fears pretty head on. He’d think through all the possible outcomes, calculate his risks and pick a direction. This fear was different. There were two outcomes: Ram forgave him or Ram did not forgive him.</p><p>A Ram that gave in and forgave any of his action lately wasn’t the kind of person he wanted in his life. King knew he had been a jerk. Ram disserved to be treated better than he’d been treated. If he was the type of person to roll over and show his belly instead of demanding better treatment, he wasn’t the person King thought he was.</p><p>Which is why the only outcome to this situation was that Ram was angry with him. The possible outcomes to working through the anger were unfathomable because King wasn’t sure what sort of anger Ram held on to. What had hurt him the most? Would he hold a grudge? Would he get violent? Sullen? Petty?</p><p>Without knowing this, King didn’t know what to do next. In order to find out the answers, he needed to confront Ram. He needed to face the consequences of his foolish actions. But there was more fear there. What if Ram didn’t want to work through this problem? What if he wanted to leave?</p><p>King let out a breath through his nose before standing upright so violently that his chair knocked over. He bent down and picked it up, setting it carefully back where it was supposed to be.</p><p>When he straightened, movement caught his eye. A dark head was walking past the window. King felt his heart stutter for a moment before starting to beat too quickly to make up for the lapse. He pushed his notes into his bag and ran for the door, eager to catch up with Ram.</p><p>He made it halfway down the hall before realizing that this wasn’t Ram. Disappointment flooded him as he realized just how much he missed the nong and had been hoping this was him.</p><p>He was near the library. Instead of heading back to Tee’s condo, King decided to rewrite his notes from the last few classes. If he didn’t get the information down soon, he was in danger of losing it from his mental storage area. His favorite table was free of people even though there were people at the other tables. As he slipped into his favorite chair, King let out a sigh. At least this place was still the same.</p><p>The subtle sounds of the library washed over him as he picked up his pencil and began to write out what he remembered from each lecture. Soon, he was lost in the concepts and theories, everything falling nicely into place as he organized the information.</p><p>The feeling that someone was watching him eased into his consciousness. King looked up, glancing around at who might be looking at him. When his eyes landed on Ram, he smiled without thinking.</p><p><i>Coward</i>, his inner voice reminded him, causing him to lower his gaze for a moment until he could quiet the voice down again. It took courage to look back up to see if Ram was still standing there and what emotion he might be able to uncover on his expressive face.</p><p>The boy’s face was not showing anger. Instead, King’s heart split apart as he realized that his junior was looking at him with an expression of acute hurt, leaving him feeling aching and fragile just to witness it. </p><p>As Ram’s head fell to his chest, King started to stand from his chair. He wanted to run to him, the words already starting to line up in his head. First, apology. Next, as much explanation as he could get out before he’d rush to apologize again. Then, perhaps, he’d remind the junior that he should be angry - oh, so angry - with him. None of this hurt. He’d done nothing wrong, after all. This was all on King’s weak shoulders.</p><p>Before he could move, Thara sank down into the chair across from him, looking tired. But that was normal for him these days “King, you missed your appointment.”</p><p>King sank back into the hard chair, forgetting the younger boy for the moment as he tried to remember what appointment it was that he might have forgotten. “My apologies but I don’t... remember.”</p><p>“Yesterday, you were supposed to come by the clinic for a check-up. The doctor from the hospital you were at sent over the records with a note that you would come in so we could confirm that the sepsis isn’t spreading.”</p><p>“I’m fine.” To prove it, King gave him a wide smile but his senior didn’t appear as convinced as he wanted him to feel. “Really. I’m sure I don’t-”</p><p>“If you don’t come in to be checked, we might end up having to give you a shot.”</p><p>King’s customary laugh came out rather strangled. “Can I come in tomorrow?”</p><p>Thara gave him a smile and nod. “I’ll be expecting you before your first class. Will that be a good time?”</p><p>“I will see you then.”</p><p>“Be sure you do. I would hate to give you a shot.”</p><p>It was a good warning. The possibility of being near another needle sent strong enough fear washing over him that he almost forgot that Ram had been standing there, looking like his world had crumbled. He wasn’t there now, though.</p><p>King crammed the papers back into his bag. If he was quick about it, maybe he could find Ram before he headed back home from campus. The idea of being shut in the condo with him was still too nauseating. He needed a better plan of action before he returned there. Better to give them both enough space to figure out... this.</p><p><i>Coward</i>. The word kept pace with him as he ran toward the bus stop, searching for Ram in every face that he passed. When there was no Ram at the bus stop, he traced his steps to see if maybe he’d passed him on the way. He searched around school for a bit until his feet were too tired to keep walking. When he got home, Tee wasn’t home so he curled up on his blankets and pulled out his phone, turning it on with a flick of his fingers.</p><p>His hands hovered over his possible contacts. Not Ram. Not yet.</p><p>Instead, he hit the button next o <b>Bohn, Master of the Universe.</b> When he picked up, King cleared his throat.</p><p>“Is Duen with you?”</p><p>“Why would Duen be with me, King?” he asked, innocently. </p><p>There was a scuffling sound and a few exasperated sounds before Duen said, “Hi, P’King. You were looking for me?”</p><p>King hesitated but knew he had to ask the question. “Have you seen Ram lately? I saw him today but... I missed him.”</p><p>There was silence on the other end of the line for long enough that Ram thought the connection might have dropped.</p><p>He heard Bohn ask,“What does he want?”</p><p>“If I’ve seen Ram.” He could hear Duen sigh. “What do I tell him?”</p><p>“Tell him the truth.</p><p>“I know I’ve hurt him,” King interrupted their conversation. “I just want to make sure he’s okay.”</p><p>The growl that came from Duen was not a gentle sound. Not the kind of sound that should have come from someone like Duen. “He’s not okay. He hasn’t been okay for awhile. I don’t know what is going on between the two of you but I don’t like it. I don’t like how you’re treating my friend.”</p><p>There was another scuffling sound and then Bohn had the phone again. “Sorry, King. He’s protective of Ram right now. Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow? I’ll see you before class.”</p><p>Before he could say anything else, the call really did disconnect. He had his answer, though. Duen was being protective of his friend. Bohn was being protective of his boyfriend. King was clearly in the wrong.</p><p>Tucking the phone beneath his pillow, King snuggled into the blankets and began to work through the equations from this week’s class, waiting for his brain to be tired enough that he would fall asleep without dreaming.</p><p>***</p><p>King barely remembered the meeting with Thara, running through the door of the clinic with just a few minutes to spare. His head hurt from all the running he’d done recently. His eyes hurt from the lack of sleep. His eyes stayed on the needle sitting on the tray next to Thara’s chair.</p><p>“I’m fine. Right? Check my head. I’m fine.”</p><p>Instead, Thara narrowed his eyes and checked everything but his head. He asked question after question, covering topics that had nothing to do with his hospital stay or his injury. Finally, he sat back and considered King with those too-perceptive eyes.</p><p>“Ram was doing a good job of taking care of you. I’m surprised he let it get bad enough that you needed to be hospitalized. No wonder he looks so miserable.”</p><p>“Ai’Ning doesn’t know that I was in the hospital. On this campus, you and Bohn are the only ones who know. I would like to keep it that way.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>
  <i>Coward.</i>
</p><p>“It’s no one’s business.”</p><p>“Not even the people that would help you?”</p><p>King worked hard to relax his shoulders as they tightened under Thara’s keen look. “I don’t need anyone to help me. I’m fine.”</p><p>Instead of pushing on that same nerve, Thara asked, “You have two older sisters, right? Do you help them?”</p><p>“My nephews like to come over and we hang out while my sister is busy.”</p><p>“And your mother and father? You help them? No, don’t answer that. I know you’re a good son. Of course you help them out when they need it. And I’ve seen you be a good friend. You’re always helping people with their homework, explaining concepts over and over again. You seem like a very kind person.”</p><p>King wasn’t sure what to say to this so he just bowed his head slightly before straightening back up, eager to get signed off on this check up so he could leave the clinic.</p><p>“But Ram... he was the first one who seemed to be helping you. That day when he carried you to the clinic, he was frantic. He wouldn’t leave your side the entire time. It’s one of the reasons we were okay with you going home and not to the hospital that night. Not everyone has as good a nursemaid when they’re hurt.”</p><p>King just smiled as brightly as he could through quivering lips. “If I’m free to go, I really need to get to class. I’ve already missed enough classes that the teachers are not happy with me.”</p><p>All Thara did was nod thoughtfully but it was all the encouragement King needed. He didn’t even mind his pounding head as he ran toward the classroom his body told him he should head towards, his brain busy working through equations and very much not thinking about the ways that he’d messed up.</p><p>He slid into his seat beside Bohn just as the teacher started speaking so he wasn’t able to do much but greet his friends with a nod as he pulled out his pencil and a piece of paper. Even though he didn’t take many notes in class, he liked to have it handy in case his brain made a connection that wasn’t being covered in class.</p><p>Halfway through the class, Bohn nudged him with his elbow, making a weird face. At first, King ignored him but it was impossible not to notice that he was working hard to get King to notice his paper.</p><p>
  <b>You missed Ram this morning. He came to see Duen at the statue.</b>
</p><p>Something in King’s stomach flipped over, leaving him feeling sick. He’d missed seeing Ram again? After the disaster that was yesterday, he wanted to cry. Instead, he licked his dry lips and shrugged a shoulder to indicate that it wasn’t that big of a deal. Bohn raised an eyebrow and smirked, clearly not falling for a trick he, himself, used on a regular basis.</p><p>Bohn looked over at the teacher to make sure they still weren’t creating enough nuisance to be noticed. He wrote, <b>He wanted to know if Duen would water the plants.</b></p><p>It was impossible to look away from the stark words, slashes and whorls of black against pale paper. If Ram wanted Duen to water the plants, it meant he wasn’t going to be at the condo.</p><p><i>COWARD</i>, the voice inside his head roared, leaving him pale and shaking. Everything wavered for a moment, the earth tilting slightly beneath him as he struggled to stay perfectly still. It kept moving, though, and the voice kept yelling at him. King heard himself whimper as he clutched at his head with shaking fists.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Bohn whispered close to his ear.</p><p>“No,” he whispered back. “I’m definitely not okay.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Useful Hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The sun comes out to shine on Ram for a moment. He would be grateful if he was allowing himself to feel anything.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ram had never felt so useless in all his life. He sat by his mother, holding tight to her hand and trying not to start crying himself. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if they were both crying. One of them had to be strong.</p><p>“What will I tell Ruj?” she kept asking, over and over again, as if that was the real problem facing them. She was desperately not touching the subject of what their life was going to look like in the future. How it was going to change. He was almost afraid that his mother wasn’t letting herself admit that things would change. For now, he was okay with her worrying about the one thing she felt she could do something about.</p><p>“You’ll tell him the truth. If you hide anything, he’ll get hurt when he discovers the lies. Better to tell him everything now.”</p><p>“Maybe not everything,” his mother murmured.</p><p>“Yes, everything. Half-truths are just as bad as lies.”</p><p>“But he’s only a baby,” she wailed. There was no reasoning with her as the sobs ratchet back up to wailing. All he could do was sit beside her and offer comfort.</p><p>Later that night, he stared dejectedly around the condo. His things were packed and went with him on his first trip home but he realized, right before falling asleep, that the plants needed tending. He had no way of knowing what King’s plans were but the poor babies must not suffer because their father was having a hard time.</p><p>In the wee hours of the morning, he walked from pot to pot, writing instructions on tiny pieces of paper before sticking them in place. When he did, there was a flutter of color with each air current, a thing of beauty that he allowed himself to enjoy for a moment.</p><p>He didn’t bother to sleep. As soon as the sun peaked above the horizon, he locked the door behind him and set off for school on foot. He had time before anyone was expected to be there. The walk might have made him sad but his emotions were all bruised, hiding away deep where they couldn’t be reached. All Ram could do was stumble down the path that he’d biked down several times, letting the sights and sounds sink the memories deeper.</p><p>After reaching a park where he and King had spent an afternoon, Ram sank down onto a bench to wait. Getting there too early would be as bad as getting there too late and he still had a lot of time. If he was hoping to not think of King here in a place that held a few memories, he was wrong. This was the place where he realized his true feelings for his senior.</p><p>Instead of running from the feelings of that tender love, Ram let himself luxuriate in those first stirrings. It had been a surprise, leaving him shaken and confused. There hadn’t been much time to think, let alone figure out what it all meant. For those few days, he had been the happiest he’d ever been.</p><p>Unfortunately, King had spent those days on pain killers. <i>Was it all one-sided?</i> he kept asking himself. He poked and prodded at the question, trying to find the truth. It had all ended with the kiss that King had most definitely started. There had been as much anger as love in those first kisses. Confusion laced with adoration.</p><p>Instead of those kisses being a sign of feelings, had King meant them as payment for Ram taking care of him? Had it not meant what he thought it meant? And why had King wanted to hide the interaction the next morning?</p><p>Ram massaged at his aching temples. He had absolutely no experience to compare this to. Before Duen and Bohn’s recent romantic entanglement, he hadn’t paid much attention to the relationships around him. His parent’s failing marriage also wasn’t a good relationship to compare to anything. Other than the misguided feelings for Pin, Ram had never felt like this toward anyone else. </p><p>
  <i>Is this what love is?</i>
</p><p>It wasn’t for him, after all.</p><p>***</p><p>He made sure King was not at the table before he walked calmly up beside Duen. Ram didn’t bother with many words, even for Duen. He handed him the key to King’s condo and a note explaining how the notes on the plants worked. At the bottom, he’d also scrawled <b>Tell him I’m grateful.</b></p><p>Before anyone could react to his sudden appearance, Ram took off a fast clip. He ignored the calls and questions following him. Instead, he ran until he was able to forget about Duen’s confused expression. He ran until he could forget that he’d once had a group of people he’d thought of as friends. He ran until he was too tired to remember the exact way King’s lips had pressed against his or the way his hand had clutched at the hem of his shirt like a lifeline.</p><p>He ran until he was just aching lungs and sore feet and nothing else.</p><p>***</p><p>The answer to all his problems presented itself two days later. Ram hadn’t meant to head to the warehouse that was sometimes used as a gym, sometimes a fighting ring, sometimes a meeting place for more unfavorable groups of individuals.</p><p>“Vira? Is that you?” </p><p>Ram hesitated, nearly stumbling as his brain forgot to tell his unsteady legs they could rest for a moment. He turned back to the man leaning in the doorway, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. It took a quick moment to place the face but Ram quickly bowed his head over his pressed palms.</p><p>“You look like you’re training again. I thought you gave up on using your fists so you had more time to get more information in your head?”</p><p>The words brought that last fight into sharp focus. It had been a bad one but he’d come out with the championship purse even if his body had taken enough of a beating that he hadn’t moved quickly for several weeks. Ting Ting and Duen had been there to ensure that he remembered his promise - that was to be his last fight.</p><p>“Your friends aren’t with you, are they?”</p><p>Ting Ting had gotten violent when several of Gold’s men had tried to keep them from leaving. Even when she was younger, she’d been scary. The thought of the wide berth they’d been given was enough to make Ram smile now, a sense of peace settling over him. Somewhere in this huge city, he had friends.</p><p>Gold took the cigarette out of his mouth, placing it carefully back into his shirt pocket. “You’re older now. Come work for me. I can offer you better compensation.”</p><p>Ram shook his head. He’d known then what path he was heading down by accepting the fights. It wasn’t what he wanted the rest of his life to be but it had soothed the savage beast in his soul for a while.</p><p>“Just a few fights? No contracts. You can keep the purse and a third of the side bets.”</p><p>Talk of money suddenly reminded him of his family’s upcoming financial crisis. If he could successfully pull off a few of the fights, he might be able to set his mother up in a smaller house and keep the family stable for a few more months.</p><p>“Half.” His unused throat ached as the English word came out in a low growl, more beast sound than human.</p><p>Gold smiled, his head tilting to the side as he considered the terms. “I’ll give you half but you’ll have to start at the bottom again. Are you prepared for that?”</p><p>His pride did not like these terms. Starting at the bottom meant he’d have to deliberately lose some fights. That meant letting himself get hit. It went against all of his training to stay still, not dodging or swerving.</p><p>It was the best solution to his problems, though. He nodded, holding out his hand to set the terms into place.</p><p>***</p><p>“You can’t do this,” his mother cried when he told her his plan. “You’re supposed to go back to school. You need to finish school.”</p><p>“And you need a roof over your head and food to eat.”</p><p>“Your father-”</p><p>Ram leapt to his feet, his fists tight at his side. He hated that she kept bringing him into their conversations, as if he should ever be a part of their lives again. “You will take no more from that man than he’s given up so far. Tomorrow, we’ll go look for other houses to see what is available.”</p><p>“I talked to Lei about coming back to the store. She said she should be able to find me some hours.”</p><p>“Fine. But it won’t be enough to cover all your living expenses. I’ll cover the rest.”</p><p>“And you’ll stay in school? Can you do both? It seems like too much to lay at your feet.”</p><p>“This is the plan,” he repeated, no new words coming to him. There was nothing but the white heat of his anger at his mother’s stark expression, her eyes wide with grief and loss. She hadn’t smiled except when he’d entered the room, as if she’d forgotten her present circumstances for that one moment of happiness to see her son again.</p><p>“You’ll go back to school?” she asked again.</p><p>He nodded, earning a grateful smile from his mother. She didn’t need to know that what he was promising and she was asking were two different things. Since they were speaking in English, he knew exactly how to interpret the words for his own use. Yes, he would be going back to school. Just not the way she wanted him to be going back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Keeping It All Close</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>King starts to find some direction for his life. Will a set back make him lose his way?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I started reading an English translation of the second book in the My Engineer series. It's the Ram/King story and is vastly different than the show in so many ways! King is very clingy when recovering from his head wound! And he doesn't get mad in the tent! He actually very boldly kisses Ram... but thinks better of it the next day. That makes so much more sense with his character in the rest of the show!!!</p><p>I'm excited for where the next season of the series might head and what they'll use from the book (and what they won't).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For two days, King didn’t move from his blanket fort. Tee brought him food and water which he only reluctantly ate while the other boy frowned at him. Most of the time, though, he slept. He remembered a few of his dreams but they left him feeling tight and angry. Maybe they were really nightmares, after all.</p><p>On the morning of the third day, King folded the blankets and stacked the pillows. Last night, he’d woken up from a dream that left him with heart palpitations but a clear path. He wrote a note of thanks to his friend and made sure he cleaned the space of his presence.</p><p> His first step was the medical clinic. If Thara was surprised to see him, he didn’t show it. “I’ve been dizzy the last couple of days,” he admitted. “It’s not the first time. This has just been the worst.”</p><p>“Any other symptoms?” the medical student asked as he did a quick check up of his heart, eyes and pulse. “Anything you’d like to talk about?” he asked when King denied any other symptoms.</p><p>“No. I’m just worried the dizziness might be something serious. Something I shouldn't ignore any longer.”</p><p>“I agree. You shouldn’t. Are you free for a couple more tests? You should be done before lunch. I’ll write a note of explanation you can show your professors.”</p><p>“That would be appreciated.” King settled back in the hard chair, not sure how he felt about being here again, the dream still liquid in the back of his mind. It didn’t matter that he was near the needle again. This was something he needed to do so he would be healthy when - if? - he saw Ram again. He didn’t want his junior to feel responsible for his health, as if that was the only thing about him. It brought up memories of being a little brother of two overwhelming older sisters that wouldn’t let him do anything on his own.</p><p>But, to be honest, he didn’t mind that Ram took care of him. He just wanted to feel he could do the same for his friend. With the kind of stress that Ram had with his family, King needed to be strong enough to be able to be a help, not a hindrance.</p><p>The testing wasn’t as bad as he feared - none of them required him to be stuck by needles. Thara assured him that he’d get a call in a few days but asked for one last favor. “Let me put you on a glucose drip for twenty minutes before you head back to class. I know you don’t like needles but it should make you feel better, if nothing else.”</p><p>King bit his lip to keep from moaning out a “no” right away. “It will help?” he asked, rather suspiciously.</p><p>This got a chuckle out of the usually reserved Thara. “I’ll do it myself to make sure you feel as little pain as possible.”</p><p>As tired as he already was, King assented, putting on a brave front until he was alone on the narrow bed with no one else in sight. Only then did he allow a few tears to pool in the corners of his eyes.</p><p>Without thinking, KIng pulled out his phone and typed up a message to Ram, pressing send without any hesitation. For a moment, it was as if everything was like it was a month ago and Ram was on the other side of the phone, eager for a message.</p><p>
  <b>I was brave today. Just one needle poke.</b>
</p><p>It was only when his phone screen suddenly showed that Ram had read the message that King suddenly remembered the current situation between the two of them. Ram didn’t know he’d been in the hospital or that he hadn’t been feeling well. They might not even be friends right now.</p><p>But Ram still read his message. The thought made him smile.</p><p>
  <b>Coolest Boy: Good.</b>
</p><p>The surprise of the message back made King drop his phone onto his lap. It took several moments of fumbling around before he had the phone in his hand and could confirm the message really was from Ram.</p><p>
  <b>Coolest Boy: Why?</b>
</p><p>Taking a deep breath, King steadied his hand and took a picture of the IV needle sticking out of his arm. <b>Getting stronger. Thara is getting better at this.</b> It was the truth but didn’t give anything away. Even better, it didn’t sound like a plea for Ram to run to his side like the first three attempts had.</p><p>It didn’t keep him from staring at his phone until Thara came to free him of the needle, hoping for another message to his unspoken message... <i>Where are you, Ai’Ning? Why aren’t you here so I can apologize to you? Did I mess this up too badly?</i></p><p>***</p><p>Seven days later, King hadn’t heard from either Thara or Ram. He kept a bright smile on his face but it was hard to keep it from slipping off from time to time as the worry got a little heavy to carry. He could tell that Bohn noticed but no one else seemed to see anything but the happy go-lucky King they were used to seeing.</p><p>That morning, one of his professors asked him to run a package to a colleague in the Communications Department. “I could have sent it by interoffice mail but I’m afraid it’s important that we get an answer by the end of the day. The other issue is that there may be questions. You’re the one student who I know can answer the questions in such a way that we’ll know there is understanding on both sides. Can I count on you?”</p><p>He had a full day of classes ahead of him but King agreed to run the errand. There was time before lunch, especially if he asked Bohn to grab a tray for him so the food would be waiting for him when he arrived. When he asked his friend for help, Bohn rolled his eyes but nodded without saying a word or asking a question, much like he’d done since the camping trip.</p><p>Thankfully, the errand proved to be easier than it sounded so King was only a bit late to lunch. He enjoyed the walk through a different part of the campus that he didn’t get to see very often, stopping to admire a few of the flowering plants. There were a couple he wanted to see if he could transplant into his own personal garden.</p><p>He was thinking of how he might get a cutting from each of them when he realized he was nearly to the Engineering college. The table where his friends would be waiting for him was not that far away. Right around this bend, he thought, as he began to take more notice of his surroundings and not just the green things.</p><p>As he reached the clearing, he glanced around to see what direction he needed to head. A dark figure stood in the shadow of a tree opposite him. Something seemed familiar about the person but they weren’t in a uniform so it was hard to place them correctly. </p><p>“King! Over here!” Tee called from their table waving to him.</p><p>The figure across from him jumped back out of the darker area of the shadow, the hood shaken loose. This person looked nothing like his Ram but there was something in the way he was standing that made King think it was him.</p><p>To confirm his suspicions, King called out, “Ram!”</p><p>The junior took a step toward him but stopped. King, however, didn’t stop walking. He kept walking toward Ram like it was the only path available for him. Even though it looked like he’d spooked Ram, he didn’t stop walking slowly forward.</p><p>There was still half a courtyard between them, enough to obscure whatever might be in Ram’s eyes but King could still see the broader details: Dark eyes shadowed from lack of sleep or, maybe, a bruise. Cheekbones and jawline more pronounced than he’d seen them before. Lips pale except on one side. Another bruise?</p><p>His hair was where the most difference showed. There was a wide strip of hair on top of his head that could be considered long but not like it was. The hair there stood ramrod straight with only a hint that it might soon be long enough to start laying down. Along each side, the hair had been stripped down to a hint in places to form decorations. From here, King couldn’t see what the lines formed.</p><p>From somewhere off to the side, King heard Duen yell, “Ram! Stop! Talk to me!” This broke the spell over both Ram and King. One stopped walking. The other turned and began to sprint away.</p><p>All King could do was watch Ram run away, his legs suddenly filled with lead weights. Duen ran past, catching Ram just before he would have disappeared from sight. The friends stood close, talking with each other easily. Ting Ting was the next to reach him, clasping one of Ram’s hands in hers with an easy familiarity that was like a shard of ice to King’s heart.</p><p>When Ram broke free of both friends, stepping away, King took another few steps forward. It didn’t matter. Ram gave him another glare before turning to run, this time at a pace that no one else in their group would be able to follow easily.</p><p>It would have been so easy to collapse to the pavement but King didn’t have time for a breakdown today. Instead, he took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders before he turned to head toward the comfort of his friends.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Stay On Your Feet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>To be young and dumb is one thing. Time was supposed to have made Ram smarter but he finds himself back in the same place, doing the same thing. At least now, he knows what he's fighting for.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My take on Ram's boxing background as I see it in my head.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was no way to escape from a persistent Duen. “Just tell me you’re okay,” he kept insisting. “Give me something so I won’t worry about you so much.”</p><p>“You don’t need to worry,” Ram told him, over and over again, until Ting Ting arrived and put a halt to any attempt at an explanation. He didn’t have the strength to deal with both of them.</p><p>Her narrowed eyes took in everything about his appearance before settling on his eyes. When she stared at him like this, Ram felt exposed. Not in a good way, like when King did it, but like he was a sparrow being sized up by a hawk for a meal. He wanted to wilt under her glare but kept his chin up, just like she’d taught him.</p><p>“You’re speaking in English. Why is it this bad?” she asked, her voice calm but anger simmered just underneath her words. “How can we help?”</p><p>“You can’t help this time.” Ram was very firm about this as he looked at both of them. “It’s different this time. I’m not angry. I need to take care of my family. This is a good way.”</p><p>“Is it? Does it have to be fighting?” Duen asked, tears already pooling in the edge of the tender boy’s eyes. “Let us help you find a different way.”</p><p>Ram shook his head firmly. “No. I’ve thought this through. It’s the only way. I’m being wise with my decisions. Thinking with my head and not my angry heart.”</p><p>“Don’t turn off your phone,” Ting Ting instructed. “Make sure you let us know how you’re doing with at least a text. If you make me worry, I’ll give you a set schedule so DON’T. MAKE. ME. WORRY.” She punctuated each word (also spoken in English) with a poke at his upper arm.</p><p>“Once a day,” he assured her with a bow of his head. Before she could make him promise anything else, he looked up to see if King was still here. In the space of a breath, he imprinted the image of his senior into his brain. There would be time to bring it up again later. For now, he turned away from his friends and began to run. And run. And run.</p><p>Even though King was far behind him now, Ram could still feel his gaze on the back of his neck, following him wherever he went. And so he ran until his legs felt like jelly and he stumbled over obstacles that didn’t exist. When he couldn’t find the strength to move forward, he leaned against a wall, his lungs protesting as he struggled to catch his breath. </p><p>When it became evident his tired body wasn’t going to make it home, he sank to the ground in the corner of a dark alley and let sleep overtake him. No one was going to bother him, not when he looked like a thug. A very necessary camouflage.</p><p>***</p><p>There was a lot about fighting this time that was different than when he was younger. He’d been foolish and angry - not a good combination - and gotten himself into a situation well over his head. When Duen had pulled him away from the gang he’d become enmeshed in, he’d been grateful. Even still, it had taken months before he’d opened up to his friends, explaining how he’d come to find himself doing really stupid things for really stupid reasons.</p><p>At the time, he hadn’t given it much thought, but now hindsight reminded him that his family had never noticed the changes in him. To them, he’d been the same boy as before the dam of anger broke and washed over him. He’d stayed an obedient son no matter the rage inside of him. He’d been angry at everyone and everything. Now, he was only angry at his father. Oh, so very angry.</p><p>To anyone else looking at that earlier time, they would tell him to be thankful that he’d had such an easy life. He’d never wanted for anything. There were always clothes and food and a comfortable place to live. His mother doted on her children but it was often smothering. His father, on the other hand, ignored them when he could and tried to give out presents later to make up for his indifference.</p><p>Boxing had been his father’s idea. He thought his son’s lighter skin might make it hard for him to make friends when really it had been so many other things that had nothing to do with the outer differences but all the ways he was different from the rest of his native classmates. So how was using his fists going to make up for that seeming deficit? </p><p>“People will respect you if you can defend yourself,” the older man had said many times, proud of himself for coming up with the idea of putting boxing gloves on an impressionable young boy.</p><p>Ram had gone along with the plan, thinking he’d gain some much-wanted approval from his father. Even though Ram had excelled, or maybe because he had, his father soon lost interest in the sport. By then, it had become something that interested Ram so he’d gone to the gym after school by himself where he friended some older boys that didn’t mind if he worked out with them even if he didn’t joke around with them or laugh at any of their bawdy stories.</p><p>After he won first place at one of the weekend regional boxing tournaments, the boys invited him out with them for drinks. Ram wasn’t interested in the alcohol but he liked the camaraderie. Even still, he let them talk him into drinking more than he’d intended. When one of the other groups at the bar began to insult them, Ram let himself be talked into showing off his championship skills.</p><p>Fighting without gloves and pads was a new experience. The press of flesh against flesh and the warm spill of blood was as intoxicating as the liquor flowing down his throat between matches. The bar patrons were cheering, but it was impossible to tell if it was for him or his opponent. He no longer cared. The roar of sound pushing him, trapping him in a bubble of a single moment,was all he needed.</p><p>In the ring, he was accepted. He was praised. He was understood. He was... loved.</p><p>And then, just like that, it was over. He woke up in his own bed with a head full of sand, with bruised and broken skin, with a pocket full of coins that hadn’t been there before. His mother was horrified. His father, unimpressed, said little except that it was impossible to tell from the aftereffects if his son had won or lost.</p><p>Ram lowered his eyes, trying not to let their reaction hurt. This was never going to be something they understood.</p><p>The next weekend, he didn’t have to be asked twice if he wanted to head to the bar. Ram drank and fought and generally had a wonderful time. The broken ribs he suffered were a small price for the absolute freedom he was delighting in.</p><p>“Come with me,” he begged Duen during lunch that next week. The very idea of the debauchery that awaited them was too much for the shy, sheltered boy. He found the bruises as distasteful as Ram’s mother and didn’t enjoy the stories of all these adventures with new friends.</p><p>He didn’t mind going alone, though. It was better that he went alone, easier to slide into the persona of a tough man with fire in his eyes and desire in his belly. He could punch and kick and bite as if the person across from him was one of the boys who laughed at him in school or his father berating him for not being enough. All the pent up anger and frustration rose to the surface to be sloughed off, exposing a happiness Ram had never let himself feel before.</p><p>Before he realized what was happening, Ram was being scheduled to fight in front of crowds of people who were paying to see the exhibition of fury. Sometimes, he won. Sometimes, he lost. It was all the same to him. He was able to empty himself of everything but what he could feel... and hear... and taste... and see.</p><p>“You’re making me a lot of money, Vira. Come work for me. I’ll pay you.”</p><p>Because he was young and stupid, he’d said yes without a single thought.</p><p>***</p><p>Ram wasn’t so young anymore. After his second fight of the night, he felt as stupid, though. He opened his mouth wide to check that his jaw was still attached correctly and that all his teeth were still firmly in place. The hit there had almost sent him to his knees but he held on. This was the last night he’d have to purposefully take a fall. Gold had promised him he could start showing what he could do instead of placing himself in front of punches. He was tired of falling to the mat when he knew he still had fight left.</p><p>There was still twenty more minutes until the last fight. After that, he’d find a quiet corner in the backroom to lick his wounds and get some sleep. Digging in his bag, Ram pulled out an apple and a small knife.He also grabbed his phone to see if there were any social media updates that he’d missed.</p><p>The screen lit up as soon as he turned it on.</p><p>
  <b>D: They have you losing on purpose?</b>
</p><p>The message was time stamped roughly ten minutes ago, about the time his lax body was being drug from the ring.</p><p><b>Should you be out so late on a school night?</b> he typed back, starting to throw things back into his bag. That was only information Duen would have gotten first hand which meant he was part of the crowd.</p><p>
  <b>D: It’s Friday. We can stay out as late as we want. We came to take you out for a late dinner when you’re done.</b>
</p><p>Ram stared at the screen, sudden anxiety cutting off his air supply. There was a part of him that wanted to hide from his friend, to not have to show off the bloody cuts already crusting over or the bruises just starting to color. He wasn’t proud of these badges he now wore, the uniform of his new life. It was a means to an end. Having people here who knew him from a different setting would only be a reminder of the life he’d turned his back on.</p><p>Before he could decide if he was going to run and hide or stay to face his friend, his phone lit up again. <b>Girl who will beat me up if I ever change this name: Hurry. I’m hungry.</b></p><p>Oh, right. Duen used the word “we”. He would never have been so foolish as to come alone. Knowing Ting TIng was here was a comfort. She would be able to defend Duen all if anything happened and the crowd grew frenzied.</p><p>
  <b>One more fight and then I’m free. Let me come find you now.</b>
</p><p>Ram slid his phone into the pocket of his bag before slinging it over his shoulder. As soon as he was back through the door, he began to search for his friends. In this crowd, they should be easy to spot.</p><p>There were waving hands in one corner. Ram worked his way through the mass of people, all drinking and yelling over the loud music played between matches, until he got close enough to pick out Duen’s smile. Ram tried to smile back but his split lip made it painful.</p><p>As if they were in one of Duen’s favorite romantic comedies, the crowd parted... and Ram discovered he was close enough to see a surprised King flinch at the sight of the fresh wounds, quickly bridging the gap with only a few steps.</p><p>The room around him blurred so it was only the two of them in the entire world.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” King murmured, his eyes dropping to where his hand lay on Ram’s arm. “I’m really sorry. For not saying it sooner. For not saying it right away. For leaving you alone for so long.”</p><p>There were so many things he wanted to say but Ram could only stare down where King’s touch was burning a new tattoo into his skin. He couldn’t stop pulling in deep lungfuls of jasmine-scented air, like he’d forgotten how to breath anything but King’s unique scent.</p><p>A bell began to chime over the music, a signal that the fight was going to begin soon. Bets would need to be in before the next bell or they wouldn’t count. Ram took a step back, slowly pulling away from King’s hand. When his Phi didn’t move or look up, Ram hung his bag from the outstretched hand.</p><p>“Later,” he promised before stalking to where Gold sat near the edge of the ring, ever vigilant of his investments inside the ropes and outside. “I’m not going to go down this fight. You have enough warning to get in some bets to cover the losses.”</p><p>“What?” Gold’s smile turned sour as he fully translated what Ram was saying to him. “You can’t do that. We have a deal. I told you after tonight-”</p><p>“No. I’m not taking the fall this time.” Ram glanced back over his shoulder, catching sight of King staring at him with concern and curiosity. “I’ll replace the losses. I’ll work for you next week until you earn it all back.”</p><p>Gold let out a snarl of frustration but sent a boy running with new bets before the next bell could ring. “I’m going to lose a ton on this. Not just money but also my reputation. Got that? That means I get to decide how you pay it back.”</p><p>“You know the line I won’t cross. Let me do this and I’ll do anything up to that.”</p><p>As soon as Ram heard him, he knew he’d won... for now. He didn’t dare think about what he was going to have to do to work this off. For now, he could be a winner in front of King. That was all that mattered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Realign the Spinning of Planets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A bit of a backtrack to the much-needed conversation between Ting Ting and P'King that takes place in the middle of last chapter. Ting may have taken a backseat in the current drama but she was in the midst of the fray in the earlier struggles of this friend group. She's got her sword ready to save the day again.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love Ting Ting so much! In my mind, she's a twist of mother-sister-confidant for all of "her" boys. I imagine great things for her!</p><p>Also, in the book, King is getting hurt ALL THE TIME. Like boy crashes his car with barely a comment and randomly falls down in the bus and makes a joke of it. Making his sisters a bit on the "clingy" side seemed realistic to me as an oldest sister.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Boys, Ting decided, really were the stupidest beings on the planet. She sat across from King at the lunch table and tried to formulate sentences that weren’t just filled with “idiot” and “stupid”. He was her senior, after all.</p><p>It had been three days since they’d discovered Ram spying on them instead of joining the table. He should have known that it didn’t matter if he was enrolled or not. Ram was always welcome.</p><p>But this boy had broken Ram’s heart and was acting like it was not a big deal. It was a very big deal. He needed to know that and act accordingly. She’d given him three days to make this right. It was time to unlock the fury.</p><p>“You’re aware that you were in the wrong, right?” she asked, as calmly as she possibly could. “He waited for you. For a phone call. Or a text. Or a post card, if you weren’t around a cell tower. He waited for a sign that he hadn’t messed things up by kissing you.”</p><p>King’s face scrunched up. She’d never seen school work make him so puzzled but this common human interaction was puzzling him. Were all boys this dumb?</p><p>“Messed up. Does he think this is his fault? I kissed him. This is on me.”</p><p>“Who started the kiss is not important, id- Phi. Who is willing to talk out their feelings is the important one. And the person who messes it up is the one who hides. You were hidden. Ram didn’t want to interrupt your time with your Grandmother but you stayed hidden from him even when you came back to school. Do you understand how much that hurt him?”</p><p>Ting had to cross her arms over her chest to keep from slapping King’s expression of wonder off his face. He seemed to find this a new revelation. Maybe she needed to rethink having a relationship with a boy if they all had fluff for brains.</p><p>“I thought I was protecting him.”</p><p>“But you weren’t. You were only protecting yourself from... what? Embarrassment? What exactly were you feeling that you needed to keep it from him instead of sharing?”</p><p>“I... I wasn’t... that is, I didn’t... wasn’t,” he stammered, struggling to explain himself. He got points in his favor for this display because it meant he was trying. Ting liked it when people tried to learn and grow.</p><p>“You weren’t embarrassed?” she asked, trying to figure out what he was trying to say so they didn’t sit here all day long while King worked his way through every word combination he knew in an attempt to find the one that felt right. “Were you angry?”</p><p>“No!” he exclaimed, horrified that she had that thought. “Never. I yelled at him but I was never angry with him. I was scared.”</p><p>“Good.” Ting gifted him with a smile and more points in his favor. “Were you scared because you realized you loved him?”</p><p>“Love.” King tried the word out on his tongue, like a baby discovering that sounds were important. “I was scared because I didn’t want him thinking he needed to take care of me.”</p><p>That was too much. Ting sprang to her feet, planting her arms on the table as she loomed toward him. “Someone has to or you’re liable to break. I’ve only known you a few months and you’ve tried to hurt yourself a thousand different ways. You need a keeper, P’King. Why is Ram not good enough for you?”</p><p>“I have two older sisters.”</p><p>“Oh.” She sank back to her seat. This was something she could understand. “You’re the youngest.” He nodded. “And you felt suffocated by their type of love.”</p><p>“It took so much hard work to pull away from them and prove that I could handle life without their help. Ram is different but I’m still scared that I’ll wake up one morning and find that I’m bound up in his care and attention without any way of getting free without hurting both of us.”</p><p>“Did you tell him this?”</p><p>King’s shoulders fell in despair. “I was going to talk to him about it but then I drank too much and ended up just yelling at him, instead. And then I kissed him and fell asleep.”</p><p>It was hard not to giggle at how pathetic this all was but Ting kept her cool, biting her lip until she tasted blood mixed with her lip gloss. “Apologize first. Then work through your issues together. You both have them. And you both have trouble with communication. If you want to have any sort of relationship with Ram, you need to figure out a way around the communication deficit.”</p><p>“He was starting to speak out loud to me. I thought we were moving in the right direction.”</p><p>“You’ve gone back a few squares on that gameboard,” Ting told him, sadly. “He’s only speaking in English now. His trust in everyone is gone. It may be a battle to gain it back.”</p><p>“I want to try.” It was adorable how fierce King looked, his lower lip poking out like a small child determined to act like an adult for the first time. “Do you have any advice?”</p><p>“I’ve given you all the advice I care to offer at this point. But I do have a plan on how you might find time alone with him to apologize without it being awkward. What are you doing next Friday night?”</p><p>“I’ll make sure I’m free. What’s the plan? I’ll do anything.”</p><p>“Have you ever been to see the fights on the East side?”</p><p>King’s eyes narrowed. “That seems like an... odd place to have a conversation.”</p><p>“Not if you’re one of the fighters. You need to see for yourself what it is that Ram is doing. I think it will help you understand where he came from and why... why you’re so important to him.”</p><p>“How-”</p><p>“There are things you don’t know yet. About his relationship with Duen. About his family. You only see what is going on now. His father is a first-class bastard and his mother let him get away with ruining their son. Now, he thinks he’s only worth what his fists will get him.”</p><p>King leaned forward, enthralled with her story and the picture it was creating in his head. She could only hope that he was seeing it correctly, without giving it a romantic film. This was a story that needed to stay stark, gritty, and uncomfortable. “What does Duen have to do with that?”</p><p>“Looking at the two of them, you probably think that Ram rescued Duen but you’d be wrong. Duen has always been the one to rescue Ram. From his father and, most importantly, from himself. That boy ripped apart hell to rescue his friend.”</p><p>When King gave her a dubious look, Ting had to cross her arms again but she made sure to give him a look that reminded him that he was only still alive because of her respect for his status. </p><p>“I was there. So was Tang and Phu. We all helped in our own way but it was Duen who paid for Ram’s freedom from the gang. You think getting a flower a day for a spoiled senior is a difficult chore? That was easy and it made him happy to do it. He did much worse for Ram’s sake.”</p><p>“Why did Ram go back if it was so bad the first time?”</p><p>The sigh Ting let out was full of pent-up rage and sadness. “Because he doesn’t think he can do anything else. He forgets his worth, sometimes. Especially when he’s put himself on the line for love and been ignored.”</p><p>“This is my fault.” It wasn’t a question. More points in his favor. The gears in his smart brain were starting to turn again. “This is because of me.”</p><p>“I’m going to let you off the hook because I like you. And because you make Ram happy. So... let’s say this isn’t your fault so much as Ram not thinking he had options because he was distracted. It can’t be Duen that helps him out this time. If you want the job of savior, we’ll help you.”</p><p>“What do I need to do? I’ll do anything. Everything.”</p><p>She smiled at him, happy that they were in finally on the same page. “Wear all black. You’ll blend in better. And try not to look quite so pretty. I’ll already have to protect Duen. I can’t protect both of you innocent looking babies.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Promises Made</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>King had never really let himself think what would happen after he apologized. That was the end goal, after all. He only wanted to make things right with Ram. But the world didn't stop with the apology. Life kept moving forward.</p><p>And now something very dangerous has taken seed within King's heart.</p><p>Hope.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've spent a lot of time staring at the picture of Ram's tattoos. Can anyone help a girl out and tell me what is under his left arm that runs down the side? I went with a wolf totem sot of thing but I can't seem to get a good look at it. Also... what is the tattoo under his waistband? Another one I can figure out. Why has no one seemed to discuss the tattoos? I even started up my Tumblr account to see if there was a discussion there but I fell down a rabbit hole of gifs that have nothing to do with tattoos...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>King wasn’t sure where to keep his eyes. There was so much going on in the crowded room, all of it filled with an interesting mix of people, that he wasn’t sure where he could look and where he couldn’t. When he made the mistake of staring too long at a woman with blue hair (he’d always wanted to dye his but had never worked up the courage), he found himself the target of a menacing glare from the man sitting next to her. When he gazed too long in the direction of a group of men across the room (he thought one of them looked familiar and was trying to figure out where he might know him from), one of them walked over and asked him if he wanted a drink. Ting Ting pushed her way between them and told the man what he could do with his drink. The whole group left not long after that.</p><p>But now Ram was in the room. The second fight of the night was announced (they’d missed the first by only a few minutes because they’d had problems finding a cab) and all eyes were on the pair of men facing off in the ring.</p><p>If King had thought this would be one of those civilized fights that were always being televised, he was sadly mistaken. This was crude and rough. There were no gloves or head protection. Ram had his fingers and forearms taped but that was all. Both men weren’t even wearing the brightly colored boxing shorts King was familiar with, just a pair of trousers cut off at the knee.</p><p>If it hadn’t been for the familiar tattoos peppering his friend’s body, King might not have recognized him at all. There were tattoos he’d never seen before: wings on each ankle and a paw print on the back of his upper right calf. He’d only seen the compass rose on his upper back, the family crest over his heart, and wolf totem once, when he’d taken off his shirt for the fight with Bohn. The aborginal tattoo on his left shoulder was as familiar to King as his own skin, as much time as he’d spent staring at it, trying to decipher all the meanings of the markings. He’d touched the wolf marked on the inside of his right arm to know that patch of skin by feel.</p><p>There was another he hadn’t ever seen before peeking out from the waistband on his left side. He’d definitely have to ask about that later. On his right side, there looked to be a fresh tattoo wrapping around the bottom of his ribs but it was impossible to tell what it was from this distance. King wanted so much to memorize this new design, working it into his memory by repetition of sight and touch.</p><p>“This is crap,” Duen announced as Ram suddenly stopped dodging the blows, letting them rain down on him like he’d forgotten what he was doing. “He’s losing on purpose.”</p><p>His mind suddenly brought back to the present, King watched in horror as Ram’s skin split and bled, the promise of bruises already blooming on his face and torso. There was a glimmer of irritation in his eyes, an emotion that very few people would recognize on the stoic face, but that King could still read easily. All the muscles in his face tensed and then relaxed right before the fist, coming slow enough that even King noticed it, plowed into Ram’s left cheek. His head snapped back. His body went rigid and then relaxed completely, sinking to the mat.</p><p>Ting Ting had her arms crossed when King looked over for confirmation that they were still staying in this same place, not rushing forward. This felt like a situation that needed a hero but she didn’t look like she agreed. Instead, she met King’s eye and shook her head tersely.</p><p>“He told me he agreed to start at the bottom,” she relayed to both King and Duen. “That means he has to lose. It will build up his reputation quicker when he starts to win. He’ll make more money off bets because they’ll never be sure if he lost because he was forced to or because he isn’t good.”</p><p>“Barbaric,” King whispered as two men came in and half carried, half drug Ram from the ring before he had a chance to recover.</p><p>That was the wrong thing to say. Duen rounded on him, fists clenched together. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to be here. No one asked you to come.”</p><p>“I did, actually.” Ting Ting lay a hand on Duen’s shoulder until he relaxed. “And didn’t you think the same thing the first time you came? GIve him time to adjust before you try to kick him out.”</p><p>When Duen wasn’t glaring quite as forcefully, King tried to explain. “I just meant that they’re not even trying to make sure he’s okay before they’re carrying him off. What if something was wrong with him? Like that guy broke one of his bones or something??</p><p>Ting Ting let out a snort, rolling her eyes to show him he was still being too soft about this. But the only way he was going to work up a shell of tolerance was to ask his questions now. “That was too soft of a punch for it to have done any damage. It just hit in the right spot to knock him out for a bit. The only damage will be an ache in his jaw. The guys working here are pretty good at spotting injuries. They need to keep their investments healthy.”</p><p>“Investments?” King didn’t like how blood-thirsty that sounded but that was the reality of this place. He understood now why Ting Ting had wanted him to come. To understand where Ram’s was at mentally, he needed to understand where he was physically. “Is it really worth it for him to do this?”</p><p>“It’s the best money he’ll be able to find until he gets that degree. This isn’t a long term solution, though. His body will start to break down, taking longer and longer to recover.”</p><p>King nodded. “And he’s pushing himself too hard. Is the way he’s dealing with this common with all his stress or just specific to this type?”</p><p>“Family stress makes him do drastic things. At least he’s learning to think before he acts. Our little Vira is growing up.”</p><p>The notification that a group chat had been activated startled King out of his deep thought about Ram and his ways of dealing with different stressors. He started reaching for his phone when Duen lay a hand on his arm. “I didn’t send it to you, P'King.”</p><p>“Why?” King wanted to be hurt but, frankly, he wasn’t in the kind of metal state that was allowing him to feel his own feelings. All he could do was process what he was seeing into the correct story of Ram.</p><p>Duen’s soft smile went a long way in letting him know that it wasn’t meant as a petty gesture. “I want to surprise him. If you are part of the chat, he might figure it out.”</p><p>“Because that kind of plan never backfires on you,” Ting Ting muttered, pulling out her phone and typing in her reply. She eyed it for a moment before looking at King. “He’s coming out before the last fight.”</p><p>The unspoken <i>This might be your only chance to talk to him so you better not mess this up or I’m going to let some random stranger take you home</i> was evident in her eyes. If King hadn’t suddenly become a bundle of nerves, he might have glared back his reply. Instead, he began to worry the edge of his thumbnail with his teeth.</p><p>He figured he had time for twenty words to sum up everything he wanted to say to Ram. As he practiced the most perfect twenty words he could think of over and over in his head, King tried to stay calm. If it didn’t work out right now, he’d text him. And he’d keep texting him until... until...</p><p>There wasn’t time to think about all those future texts because Ram was suddenly walking toward them, one of his eyes swollen nearly closed and his split lip still seeping blood. Imaging the pain he must be in made King flinch as he got closer. When Ram stopped, King closed the distance himself.</p><p>In a rush to get out the twenty perfect words, King started with, “I’m sorry.”</p><p>King made the mistake of looking Ram in the eyes. He remembered seeing this same expression in his junior's eyes when he yelled at him in the tent. That wasn’t what he intended with these words. They were supposed to make Ram feel better. Instead, King felt like he was just making him feel bad again.</p><p>Letting his eyes fall to the wolf on Ram’s arm, King reminded himself that the important thing was saying the words. More carefully, he continued, “I’m really sorry. For not saying it sooner. For not saying it right away. For leaving you alone for so long.”</p><p>And then, before he could think of something more to say, Ram was gone again. King willed himself to stay still. Running after Ram was not the answer to this problem. Not in this room. Not with those words still hanging in the air like a sign that he was just not good at relationships.</p><p>Ting Ting sensed his distress. “You did what you came to do. Good job, P’King.”</p><p>“It didn’t feel like a good job.”</p><p>She sighed, wrapping an arm around him while they watched Ram getting his hands and arms wrapped again. “It never does. It’s just important that you said the words.”</p><p>This fight was over surprisingly quick. Ram ducked under the ropes, took his starting position, and then sprang to life, his fists and feet moving in a rhythm that seemed to surprise everyone in the crowd. Not a single punch landed on his body this time because he was never where the fist ended up. Every one of his punches found their mark, inflicting bruising pain from the way his opponent was doubling over or rebounding off the blow.</p><p>In less than five minutes, Ram had his hands raised in victory, his body now silent and unmoving as he stared across the room toward King. There was no way for King to drop his eyes this time. Ram’s gaze was too magnetic. He wished he was close enough to read the expressions better in his eyes. There was joy there. That was easy enough to see. It made King feel better to know that something had gone right tonight.</p><p>***</p><p>The four of them piled into a cab for a trip back toward the university where the eating establishments were more guaranteed to be safe and clean. Duen offered to call the rest of their friends to make a real celebration of the rest of the evening. All Ram did was shrug but it was taken as his acceptance of the plan. King was grateful there would be more people to hide behind.</p><p>When they arrived at the agreed upon destination, the rest of the group was already seated but a very angry Bohn waited for them at the doorway. “You said you were studying tonight. With Phu. What else did you lie about?”</p><p>Duen stretched up to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek. “Nothing else. Promise. Wait until we tell you the story, though. Ram was fantastic.”</p><p>The man of the hour was ushered to a seat of honor. A seat beside him was left open but King deliberately took an empty seat across from Ram before Ting Ting could take it. She glared at him but slid into the seat he’d  left open. Food was passed around as Duen told everyone his version of the fight, which sounded like a theme park ride as he attempted to downplay the reality for Bohn’s sake.</p><p>Soon, a song they all liked began playing over the speakers. They’d all had enough alcohol that everyone quickly agreed to Ting’s idea of dancing. The table soon emptied except for Ram and King, quietly sitting across from each other.</p><p>It bothered him that Ram hadn’t said anything since they’d arrived. No, he hadn’t said anything in the cab. Or even when he’d joined them again after his last fight. Nothing to him. Nothing to Duen. That meant any conversation they had needed to be in “yes” or “no” questions.</p><p>“Does it hurt? Your face?” </p><p>Ram shrugged, offering a bland expression to show that he didn’t care if it hurt or not.</p><p>“Do you only fight on the weekend?” A nod. “Are you doing other things during the week?” This took longer to answer, probably because it wasn’t a true yes/no question. “Sorry. I guess I should ask if you are busy during the week.” A shrug like maybe he did things but he didn’t feel he was busy? Or he was busy but didn’t feel like he did much? It wasn’t important. This was not the line of questions King really cared about.</p><p>“Did you get a new tattoo? I don’t remember the one under your ribs.” In his eagerness to find out more, King kept asking questions without waiting for Ram to nod or shake his head. “Did it hurt? What is the design? I couldn’t tell earlier. We were too far away.”</p><p>Ram started to lift his shirt. </p><p>“What are you doing?” King felt his eyes grow comically wide. “You can’t undress here. What are you thinking?”</p><p>He paused, giving King a questioning look as if to say <i>what would you like me to do, then?</i> When King only squeaked, his words suddenly disappearing as well, Ram settled back into his chair with a sigh which turned into a huge yawn.</p><p>“Are you tired?” King was instantly alert again, the realization that Ram was enduring this gathering even though he must be exhausted. “Should I call a cab to send you home? Do you live near here?”</p><p>Ram shook his head, another yawn erupting from his body</p><p>If it had been any of his other friends, King would have cleared a space on the table in front of them and told them to lay their head down on the hard surface. Or jokingly moved some chairs so they could stretch out on the floor. Neither of them were good options for someone whose body was bound to be sore and aching. He thought about offering to send him home again but that would end the evening. </p><p>There were still too many things he needed to say to have it end now but Ram really did look exhausted. King pushed back his chair and was around the table before he thought about what he was planning on doing. For a second longer than was comfortable, he stood next to Ram’s chair, staring down at him. He’d forgotten how expressive Ram’s face was from this distance. A few feet really did make all the difference.</p><p>King pulled a chair over until it was flush against Ram’s chair. He sat down, patting his shoulder. When Ram only stared at him, King shrunk away. “Sorry. I thought you might want to rest while they’re dancing. You really do look tired so I thought-”</p><p>He squeaked again when Ram reached over and pulled his body into the most convenient placement before laying his head on King's shoulder. Ram let out a deep sigh before lifting his head, repositioning King’s body again so he was laying across his chest, his head now pillowed on the opposite shoulder, Ram’s arm on the chair arm to take most of his weight.</p><p>“Are you comfortable now?” King asked, his question laced with sarcasm. It wasn’t like he was uncomfortable but it felt good to not be so stiff around Ram again.</p><p>The huff of air Ram let out in response made King shiver.</p><p>“Okay?” Ram asked.</p><p>King nodded, not completely confident that his voice wouldn’t betray him.</p><p>***<br/>
A very tired looking Ram let himself be bundled into a cab only because he didn’t appear to have the strength to resist. King, on the other hand, had found a reservoir of strength to resist. Everytime Deun insisted Ram come home with him, King stood his ground.</p><p>“He’s coming to my condo,” he kept insisting, ultimately climbing over Ram’s unresisting body before Duen had a chance to round the car to the opposite door. He gave the address to the driver and demanded he start driving before the door was even closed.</p><p>Ram woke up long enough to get through the front door but sagged against the wall. “Sorry,” he mumbled to one of the plants hanging in his face.</p><p>“You’ll talk to the babies but not to me? They miss you and are glad you’re here. Talking to them will make them happy. Come on, though. You can’t sleep against the wall.”</p><p>“Nice wall.” Ram stroked the wall like he’d missed it the most. “I’m okay with the wall.”</p><p>“You’ll get the bed. Don’t argue.”</p><p>King’s knees nearly buckled as he took more of Ram’s weight on his shoulder than he was prepared for. They made it to the bed  but King had to rest for a moment, his breath coming fast as his body protested all the work it had just done. When he finally started to move away, Ram’s hand came up to capture his arm.</p><p>“You sleep, Ai’Ning. You look like you need lots of sleep. There’ll be plenty of hot water in the shower tomorrow for you to relax your muscles and I’ll make sure there’s something to eat for breakfast before you leave.”</p><p>“Don’t disappear again.” When King didn’t respond, his brain still reeling from the fact that those words had been in Thai, Ram tugged at his arm. “Don’t.”</p><p>“I won’t disappear,” he promised, his throat clogged with tears at finally getting to hear Ram's voice again.</p><p>Ram’s hand slipped off his arm but it was hard to tell if it was because he was well and truly asleep or if he’d gotten King to agree to his terms. Either way, King couldn’t help but stare at him for several minutes. After all he’d put him through, Ram still wanted King in his life. The revelation floored him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just as a side note... Tang is also really angry that he wasn't included in the evening's earlier plans. Ting Ting didn't flat out lie to him but she hadn't exactly been truthful.</p><p>I really want to write that fic.</p><p>My beta is going to kill me if I start a new one....</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Crown of Thorns</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There is still a lonely boy trapped inside Ram, waiting to be hurt. Waiting to be left. But there is now a boy who is watching his love die or be ripped from him in every dream and there's never anything he can do but wake up and hope that reality is not mirrored in those nightmares.</p><p>These dreams are going to take more than a single dream catcher to make them stop. They're going to need a hedge of thorns and leaves to keep them out.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ram woke in a panic from a dream so real that he could still feel the tears on his cheeks and the ache in his chest. He tried to climb from the comfortable bed but his legs got tangled in the sheets, sending him crashing to the floor. In the thick darkness, he could make out the familiar shadows of a room he could navigate with his eyes closed.</p><p>Still, the panic clawed at his throat, making him unsteady on his feet. His whole being was concentrating on one command - FIND KING.</p><p>He made it to the main room without crashing into anything but he couldn’t remember where the light switch was located. His moan of exasperation was answered with a sharp, “Ai’Ning!”</p><p>That’s right. King was sleeping on the couch. Why was King sleeping on the couch? They slept in the same bed now. Why was everything fuzzy in his head?</p><p>Ram made it to the couch in just a few steps, dropping to his knees to make it easier to investigate the reality of King at the moment. He smoothed shaking fingers over the planes of his cheekbones, down the slope of his nose, over her flawless lips. Everything seemed to be in place. When his questing fingers got to the pulse at his neck, Ram paused for a moment to count the heartbeats.</p><p>“Ai’Ning? What’s wrong?”</p><p>“You’re alive,” Ram muttered, his throat still tight with the remembered fear. His breath was starting to match the even breaths King was taking.</p><p>“I’m fine. You’re the one who’s hurt. Did you have a nightmare?”</p><p>Ram’s head fell until his forehead was touching the warm skin of King”s shoulder. He took in deep, healing breaths of jasmine-scented air. King’s unique scent filled his nose and mouth. His body grew heavy, sagging against the side of the couch.</p><p>“Don’t fall back asleep here. You’ll regret it in the morning when your back hurts.” King tried to push him away but Ram just burrowed closer until his face was buried in the cleft of King’s neck, his lips pressed against the regularly beating pulse.</p><p>King continued to talk to him in a low, soothing tone but Ram was already drifting back to sleep.</p><p>***</p><p>This time, Ram didn’t wake quickly. Instead, his brain woke up before the rest of his body. He was conscious of laying on his back on the couch at King’s condo. He remembered stumbling from the bedroom to find King and then nuzzling up to him when he found him. There were words fluttering around in his brain, things that King had whispered to him last night as he was falling back asleep that he’d heard but hadn’t processed. That was something that could be done later, though.</p><p>For right now, his brain was more worried about the feeling of being trapped by something heavy. There was a vague memory of pushing King over so he could join him on the couch and then situating both of them so they both fit on the tiny space. The rational side of his brain decided that the weight was King.</p><p>The irrational side of his brain wanted to wake up struggling.</p><p>The parts of his brain decided on a compromise. He wrapped his arms more securely around the body (yes, he could now tell it was a body even without opening his eyes) and then rolled so the person was trapped against the back of the couch.</p><p>When he opened his eyes, King’s own wide eyes stared back at him.</p><p>“Good... morning?” King’s voice sounded weird. Strained. Scared.</p><p>“Sorry,” Ram breathed out, starting to pull away as he fully realized what he’d done. It was a good thing that he hadn’t started punching because that would have been a mortifying thing to explain.</p><p>King clutched at his shirt, stilling his progress. He pressed his face against Ram’s shoulder as he yawned. His eyelashes fluttered against Ram’s skin as he opened and closed his eyes a few times. “Wait. Just wait. Let me wake up a little bit.”</p><p>They lay wrapped together for a few minutes before King began to move. He pushed and pulled at Ram until both of them were sitting, facing each other. His eyes roamed over Ram’s skin, searching for all the bruises and contusions. King seemed most concerned about his puffy eye that was still mostly closed.</p><p>“Does it hurt?” he asked.</p><p>Ram took a moment to consider his aches and pains There was nothing he hadn’t dealt with before but he could imagine that he must look horrible as all the bruises started to color and swell. But he didn’t think King would let him shrug it off. Instead, Ram took King’s hand and placed it over his jaw.</p><p>“Is that where it hurts the most?”</p><p>Ram let his eyes close for a moment before gazing back up into King’s concerned eyes. Then he moved it to his right side where one of his ribs was protesting.</p><p>“This, too? You should not have put me on top of you last night. My weight probably made it worse.”</p><p>This time he shook his head and frowned fiercely, trying not to laugh when King mimicked his expression back to him.</p><p>“I think I still have an ice pack. Will that help?” Before Ram could answer, King jumped up and ran for the small fridge. He was only out of sight a few seconds before Ram felt his body tense with remembered worry, the dream still pushing out from his subconscious. Even with the clatter he was making, Ram struggled not to rush after him.</p><p><i>It’s a dream,</i> he reminded himself over and over again. <i>Just a dream. King is in the apartment with me. He’s not going to disappear. I’ll see him in just a moment... just a moment... a moment.</i></p><p>“P’King,” he called out before he could stop himself, his voice quivering with panic around the edges of the word. It took a lot for Ram to force his eyes to start blinking because his irrational fear had ceased some bodily functions that it deemed unnecessary.</p><p>“Do you need some water?” King asked as he stepped back into view, his wide smile slipping a little as he stared at Ram for a little longer than necessary. “On second thought, you come get yourself some water. I can’t do everything for you.”</p><p>Ram’s body protested as he stood up. Why hadn’t he thought to just walk into the kitchen with King? The solution really had been that simple. There was a lone cup in the drainer so he didn’t have to search from one in the cupboard. As he filled it from the pitcher King had set on the counter, Ram turned to watch King sort through the items in the freezer.</p><p>“Here.” King placed the small ice pack on the counter. “Put this on your jaw while I find the other... ah! Found it.” But it took several minutes to pull it free from the odd assortment of things that King kept stored in his freezer.</p><p>By the time King turned back around with the prize, Ram felt a little more calm, his eyes blinking once again and his breathing evening out. Or he was calm until King tugged at the bottom of his shirt.</p><p>“Off,” he commanded.</p><p>Ram nearly spit out a mouthful of water, saving it just in time but then convulsing into a coughing fit. When he had composed himself again, King held up the large ice pack. “Fine. Not all the way but you need to put this on your ribs. Also, I want to see the new tattoo.”</p><p>Because Ram really wanted King to see the newest addition to his ink collection, he shrugged off his shirt all the way. Even still, he felt the tips of his ears redden as he let the soft t-shirt fall to the floor. Sensing his discomfort, or maybe to hide his own, King handed him the second ice pack before bending to pick up the shirt and fold it correctly before setting it on the counter.</p><p>King started out by saying hello to the art he’d seen before. He smoothed a hand over the shoulder piece to the crest over his heart and the wolf totem under his arm. He had to bend down to see it all properly which seemed awkward. With a huff of expiration, King stood straight again.</p><p>“Too many shadows in here. Which room has the best light?” Grabbing his wrist, King began moving the two of them into the main room again but thought better of it and kept going until they were in the bedroom.</p><p>The blankets were still rumpled from the few hours Ram had tossed and turned, his nightmare causing more of a mess than he’d remembered. It didn’t bother King. He indicated for Ram to sit down with a nod of his head before pushing at his shoulder so he was laying on his back. Ram felt his eyes go wide again, but not from panic.</p><p>“Ice packs,” King reminded him in a bland tone of his voice as he stared openly at the unfinished design that started under Ram’s ribs in the front before traveling to his back. That was mostly what wasn’t finished at the moment. The work in the front was nearly done except for some shading.</p><p>King sank to the bed beside him so he could see the finer details of the work up close. His hair hung in his face so Ram couldn’t see his expression but it was easy to hear his tiny gasps of pleasure as he began to really understand what it was that he was looking at.</p><p>“Are these... are these the babies?”</p><p>Every plant in this condo was represented on Ram’s body. The banner of foliage had taken him hours to draw but he’d taken pictures with his phone before he’d left the condo the last time. They were all there, frozen in the moment of time that was the closest to perfection for him. The moment Ram had walked out that door, he’d known for sure that he loved King. And he’d known exactly how he wanted to remember that love, even if it was never reciprocated in the future.</p><p>“Some are still missing,” Ram answered but King interrupted with a shout of surprise. </p><p>“This is one that I have at home. You’ve never seen this before. How did you know about this?”</p><p>In a hollow of the leaves, there was one of King’s tiny terrariums done in exquisitely fine detail. “I got it right?” Ram asked, trying to bend his head at a different angle so he could see King’s face.</p><p>“How?” King demanded.</p><p>“When I went with your sister, I took a picture.”</p><p>“It’s perfect,” King whispered, sliding one of his fingers down each of the lines. “Wait. What... what is this?”</p><p>Ram turned slightly on his opposite side, his ribs protesting the movement, and made sure his arm was completely out of the way. He could tell exactly what King was now running his fingers over.</p><p>“G,” he answered. The letters were only a shadow at the moment. They would be the last thing completed but it was easy to see what the void was spelling out.</p><p>“Is this my name?” King’s voice sounded funny but Ram still couldn’t see what his expression was doing. </p><p>He felt something liquid and warm fall on his skin but didn’t think anything of it until it happened several more times. He tried to roll over but his senior’s hands kept him in place. As King got to the K, Ram let himself be rolled onto this stomach so the rest of the tattoo was visible.</p><p>“What’s this? It’s not complete yet.”</p><p>“Crown of thorns with a... purple flower.”</p><p>The sound King made was not quite a chuckle. Not quite a sob. This time, Ram broke King’s hold and rolled over onto his back again. When the other boy tried to back up, Ram reached for his hand and yanked him down so he sprawled out on top of Ram’s chest, their faces barely a breath apart.</p><p>“Don’t cry,” Ram whispered, his soul twisting up at the sight of King’s reddening eyes and the tear tracks already evident down his cheeks.</p><p>King sniffed several times, not meeting Ram’s gaze yet. “My name is on your body. That’s... I don’t know.. That’s-”</p><p>“Weird?” Ram bit his lip, wishing now he’d talked this through with King. Maybe he’d acted a bit rash in getting it inked so quickly.</p><p>“No. Not weird. It’s just... overwhelming me right now.”</p><p>Ram brought his hands to either side of King’s face, drawing him so close that he had to look at him. “You are special. I want to remember that. Always.”</p><p>“And now you’re adding words to this and I just...” King began sobbing in earnest. “You make me feel things, Ram. I don’t even know what it is that I feel sometimes because it’s all so... intense. Just when I think that you can never feel things this intensely, you pull something like this. What am I supposed to do when I feel like this?”</p><p>“Kiss me?” Ram offered.</p><p>“Every time I feel overwhelmed, I’m supposed to kiss you?”</p><p>Ram nodded, his smile wide with the idea. “Every time.”</p><p>“So I’ll just... kiss you?”</p><p>Ram held his breath as King lowered his mouth until their lips were just barely touching. “Every time,” he breathed out, not wanting to close his eyes for fear that the spell might end as soon as his eyelids fluttered shut. Instead, he let his vision get fuzzy with the close proximity as King turned his head just enough that they fit together better, their lips the interlocking piece of the puzzle that was the two of them.</p><p>King took Ram’s top lip between his, tugging slightly and releasing only to come back and do it again and again. Each time, Ram tried to get closer so he could deepen the kiss but King wouldn’t let him. He made a sound of frustration deep in his throat but that only made King smile and begin to trail kisses along his jaw.</p><p>“If I kissed you that way each time my feelings for you overwhelmed me,” he teased between each of the small nips, “you’d never be able to breathe properly.”</p><p>Ram growled again but it was a satisfied sound as he finally let his eyes slide shut, King's lips grazing the skin just under his ear. Without his sight, Ram let his sense of touch take over, smoothing his hands under his shirt and over the skin of King's back.</p><p>A strange ringing sound shattered the moment. When Ram heard the sound, he snapped out of the drowsy, love-sated reverie and sat up with enough force that King broke away and sat back.</p><p>“My bag?” Ram asked, not sure where his things were left last night. He needed to answer this call or they would track the phone, sending someone to knock on the door. The last thing Ram wanted was for any of Gold’s men to know where King lived.</p><p>King pointed to the other side of the room, pulling his knees up to his chest as he watched Ram find the ringing phone and flick it on with his thumb. “Yeah?”</p><p>“There’s a bus ticket with your name on it at Terminal 3. No need to pack a bag. Everything will be provided for you.”</p><p>“Where?” Ram asked, having a feeling he was being sent very far away as a way of putting him back into his place. His dramatics had not been appreciated last night.</p><p>“You don’t need to know that yet. You’ll figure it out when you get there. Plan on staying a week. I’m getting all my money back from your little stunt. It won’t happen again, will it?”</p><p>The call ended before he could say anything. He let the phone slip from his hand before he ran a hand over his face. Gold knew the limits he put on their working relationship, what he would do and wouldn’t do, but the man was angry enough that some of those lines might be blurred.</p><p>“Was that the man you work for?”</p><p>Ram nodded, staying on his feet only out of sheer will. He knew if he sank down on the bed like his shaking knees wanted to, he’d let himself sink into King and he’d never be able to leave.</p><p>“Another job?”</p><p>He bent to pick up the phone. “I’ll chat you,” he whispered before heading into the kitchen to find his shirt. Before he could pull it on, King placed another folded shirt in his hands.</p><p>“That one’s dirty. Wear this instead.”</p><p>Ram’s eyes widened as he saw the shirt King had given him. It was the grey one he’d been wearing that night in the tent. The night of their first kiss.</p><p>“Keep it until we see each other again.”</p><p>His heart swelling with love, Ram bent slightly to give King one last kiss before he stepped back and pulled on the shirt. He placed his dirty one in King’s hands, offering one last smile before heading out the door, toward the only thing in this world that fate could have used to pull him away from his King.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>When I started writing this idea, I didn't even think about the fact that I was giving Ram some pretty intense anxiety by stripping everything away from him. I've never hurt a character quite like I've hurt Ram. But soon... I promise! I'll make it up to you, Ram!</p><p>Also, my Pinterest board with tattoo ideas is now overflowing with plant ideas!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A calm heart and a wet nose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>King wished he could do nothing but sit and wait for the call that would tell him Ram was back in the city. But there was still life to be lived between then and now. There are fears to be conquered.</p><p>(warning for a slight bit of language)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took exactly five minutes and forty-three seconds for the first notification to pop up. King sat on the bed, clutching Ram’s shirt to his chest, and flicked his phone on but paused before reading it.</p><p>Last night at the bar, as Ram had lay sleeping across his chest, King had done a silly thing. He’d taken a picture of Ram’s ear and a portion of his tattooed neck. It was the only part of him visible after he’d snuggled into the side King’s neck. It was also the only part of him that hadn’t been swollen or discolored. He’d set that picture as the background of his phone.</p><p>What was he going to say if someone asked him what this was a picture of? <i>Oh, just the part of my boyfriend I look at first when I see him. And it’s the part of him I want to kiss first everytime I see him.</i></p><p>Boyfriend. He could use that word, right?</p><p>Of course, he could. Ram was in the process of having KING tattooed on his body. The least King could do in return was to use the term <i>boyfriend</i>. Besides, using the word, even in his head, made him smile.</p><p>Quickly, he scrolled to Ram’s contact info stored in his phone, changing it from <b>Ai’Ning</b> to <b>Boyfriend</b>. He saved it  but continued to stare at the screen. It didn’t feel like enough. Not big enough. Not grand enough.</p><p>
  <b>The Bloom In My Heart</b>
</p><p>Satisfied, he saved it, immediately closing the window before he thought better of it, and went to look at the message.</p><p>
  <b>The Bloom in My Heart: I’ll be gone for about a week. I still don’t know my exact return date. They’ll most likely take my phone away before I get there but I’ll call you when I get back.</b>
</p><p>Another message popped up as he was reading this one.</p><p>
  <b>The Bloom in My Heart: I miss you.</b>
</p><p>He started typing <b> you just saw me</b> but deleted it.</p><p>
  <b>I miss you, too. Will you be safe?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>The Bloom in My Heart: He’s just irritated. I’ll make sure he gets all his money back and he’ll forgive me.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Do you know what you’ll be doing?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>The Bloom in My Heart: Not for sure but I have a good idea.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Do I want to know what you’ll be doing?</b>
</p><p>There was a longer pause than before. For a moment, King was afraid he’d lost him, either because he’d pushed or because they’d come for him. Both left him feeling cold.</p><p>
  <b>The Bloom in My Heart: Just remember I’m an investment.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>You may be their investment but you’re my life savings.</b>
</p><p>And then he quickly typed: <b>That was so cheesy.</b></p><p>
  <b>The Bloom in My Heart: But I liked it.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>I image Bohn saying stuff like that to Duen and I throw up a little in my mouth. Forget I said it.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>The Bloom in My Heart: Thanks for that image.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>But you smiled, right?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>The Bloom in My Heart: I prefer not to think about Bohn and Duen doing anything together, though.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Same.</b>
</p><p>King started to blush as he wrote <b>I prefer to think about us doing things together.</b></p><p>When he saw the Ram had read the message but hadn’t typed anything, he hurriedly typed <b>Too far?</b></p><p>
  <b>The Bloom in My Heart: Give me a minute. I’m new to this.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>I’ll wait.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>The Bloom in My Heart: We’ll just have to SHIT! Have to go. I’ll call you. Love you.</b>
</p><p>And just like that, Ram was gone. Just in case, King tried to call him but he only got the message that the phone wasn’t turned on. Sadly, he threw his own phone behind him, pressing Ram’s shirt to his scalding cheeks.</p><p>Had he just... flirted with his.... boyfriend by... phone? That was a new experience. He’d chatted with him before but that had been different. That had been new.</p><p>That had been nice.</p><p>When his phone rang, King nearly fell off the bed trying to get his phone from under a blanket. “Hello?” he answered, breathlessly, not bothering to look at who was calling. He knew it wasn’t Ram but he would hold out hope on the off chance that he’d gotten to a phone.</p><p>The person on the other end of the phone was not Ram. When he finally ended the call, fifteen minutes later, he covered his face with Ram’s shirt again but this time he bit his lip to keep from screaming. This was not the time or place for the kind of breakdown he deserved.</p><p>***</p><p>Duen answered the door on the second knock. “You got here quicker than I thought you would.”</p><p>King had a smile on his face but he knew his eyes were sad. There was nothing he could do about that right now. “I called when I was already on my way here. Is it okay if I see the dogs?”</p><p>“I’m fine with it.” He peered closer at King. “Are you going to be okay with seeing them? Ram told me they scare you.”</p><p>“I’ve come prepared.” King held up Ram’s shirt. “I have my secret weapon. This is the best time for me to deal with all my fears head on.”</p><p>“All of them?”</p><p>But King was already pushing into the house. He knew if he stayed on the doorstep much longer, he’d never work up the courage to see this to the end. He stood in the hallway, trying not to pant as he tried to guess where the dogs were. Maybe, if he knew beforehand, they wouldn’t surprise him. WIthout being surprised, maybe he wouldn’t be scared.</p><p>He heard one of the dog’s bark. Instantly, his fight-or-flight reaction kicked in. <i>No. This is something you can do. It’s not simple but it’s a step in the right direction. They would never harm you. Ram has raised them to be kind and respectful. They just want to play. They miss Ram.</i></p><p>King held the shirt up to his face, breathing in the hint of Ram’s scent still left in the cloth. <i>I miss Ram</i>, he thought. <i>I want to spend time with others that miss him.</i></p><p>Duen was still watching him, waiting for some sort of reaction to know how he was supposed to react. It was oddly familiar. King smiled at Duen, glad that he’d decided to do this so that he could also talk to Ram’s best friend for awhile.</p><p>“I’m ready,” he announced, the shirt back in front of him like a piece of armor.</p><p>When Duen opened the back door, the dogs were huddled near the opening like they knew something new and interesting was about to happen, their mouths open like they couldn’t contain their excitement. The one called Ro-rue caught sight of King and instantly went still, his ears tilting forward.</p><p>“A friend has come to visit.” Duen made sure to stay between his visitor and the dogs but he didn’t look any more confident than King. At this point, neither of them knew how the dogs were going to react.</p><p>The other two took notice of Ro-rue’s attitude, then noticed King. Their excited barks were soon overwhelming. Duen tried to quiet them down without any success.</p><p>Finally, King had taken all the noise he could handle. “Stop,” he said, his voice as firm as Ram’s when he’d used the command.</p><p>Instantly, all three dogs stopped barking. Duen looked as speechless as the animals.</p><p>Slowly, King slipped past the flabbergasted boy and over to one of the cushioned seats overlooking the garden. He lowered himself down on it but brought his legs up and crossed them in front of his body as a buffer.</p><p>“Come, Ro-rue.” The dog obeyed, sitting facing King like he was prepared to have a long talk. Boy and dog stared at each other for the space of several breaths before King felt comfortable breaking eye contact. “Come, Mo-mah. Come, Sara-r.”</p><p>The other two dogs bounded over, fitting their bodies between the dog and the chair. At first, King felt himself tense to have all the dogs so close but he reminded himself to breathe as he wrapped Ram’s shirt around one of his hands and held it out for the dogs to sniff at. Something in them seemed to still and relax. When their bodies softened, King also relaxed further.</p><p>“You know their names?” Duen asked, still standing in the doorway.</p><p>“Of course.” King smiled back at him with a cocked eyebrow. “Don’t you?”</p><p>This bit of sarcasm made Duen frown. “I do. I just didn’t think you would.”</p><p>“I’ve lived with these dogs for a month. How could I not know their names? That would be like not knowing your name after seeing you every day since the start of school. Do I come across that dim?”</p><p>“Ram said you were scared of the dogs. He was always concerned you didn’t like them.”</p><p>King held out his hand that wasn’t wrapped in the shirt, letting Ro-rue lick it before pulling it back into his body again. That experiment had gone well but now he needed to calm his heart rate down again. “Not liking them is not the same as being intimidated by them. I’m learning to be brave. Like Ram. He’s brave. He deserves people in his life who can be brave.”</p><p>Sara-r nuzzled up against him, jealous of the attention he’d paid to Ro-rue and not to her. When she licked his bare ankle, King had to stifle his shriek of surprise.</p><p>“I think we’ll be fine. Is it okay if I spend some time alone with them. There are things we need to discuss.”</p><p>Duen nodded, still a little dumb-struck about what he was witnessing. “I’ll come check on you later. Take all the time you need.”</p><p>When the door closed, King looked over his audience. “We have things to discuss, you and I. First, let’s get something straight. I like you but my babies will always be my favorite. Understood?”</p><p>Mo-mah shifted so she was laying down, her hand between her front paws. Sara-r let out a huff of air that might have been a bark if given enough opportunity but Ro-rue rubbed his nose against her ruff as if to quiet her.</p><p>“I thought maybe you could come stay at the condo again but I”m not going to be able to do that just yet. I won’t even be there. For awhile, I’m going to be in the hospital. I think Ram will be back but I don’t know for sure. If he doesn’t come back, you need to stay here with Duen for a little longer.”</p><p>This time, Sara-r did bark, her emotions getting the better of her. King just smiled at her, putting out a tentative hand to her so she could lick his fingers instead of his ankles. That skin was much too sensitive to be kissed.</p><p>“Do we have a deal? You stay here but then maybe, if Ram thinks it’s a good idea, you can come back to the condo?”</p><p>He made eye contact with Ro-rue, surprised when he saw emotion in the dog’s gaze. A quiet assurance, not unlike that of his owner. Maybe Ram really was part dog. The thought didn’t concern him like it had in the past.</p><p>They sat in silence until Duen came back, carrying a tray of tea and cookies. The boy was so polite it made Ram’s teeth hurt. “I thought you might like some refreshment.”</p><p>“Will you join me? I’d like to ask a favor of you.”</p><p>After pouring the tea, Duen took a seat on one of the other chairs and gave his senior his full attention as King explained his plan. Together, they revised it and added some different ideas if it failed in certain ways.</p><p>“Will Bohn be okay with his part?” Duen asked. “I know he’s your friend but he doesn’t like Ram that much.”</p><p>“But he’s my friend first and foremost, before his jealousy of Ram in both of our lives.” King bit back a sigh as he thought about the conversation he still needed to have with not only Bohn but the other friends in his group. That was his next stop. “I’ll drop my phone off tomorrow after I talk with my mother. Just be ready for his call. I don’t want him finding out about this from anyone before he finds out from you.”</p><p>Duen’s eyes were huge, the weight of his assignment straining the boy’s heart a little too much. If it could have been different, King wouldn’t have included him like this, but he knew he could trust Duen to stay beside Ram, no matter what happened.</p><p>“Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself, Phi.”</p><p>“I’ve done enough worrying about myself to last several lifetimes. I’ll be fine.”</p><p>He just wished he believed it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I got the dog's names from the second book in the My Engineer series: "Space Between Us". I'm reading <a href="https://www.wattpad.com/878129412-space-the-gap-between-us-english-retelling">this translation</a> by taynewlovebot on Wattpad. I'm very "meh" about the second part. What are your thoughts? I'd love to hear them. I'm looking forward to seeing how Season 2 deals with some of the stuff.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The fear unravels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ram has waited for Gold to try to go back on their promise since the day he presented the idea of the man. He's not surprised that he finally finds himself tied up in knots because of the man's greed. But he is surprised at how a single laugh can make even the worst of situations bearable.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Re: Medical stuff<br/>I am not a doctor. I was a pharmacy tech for nine years and am currently a Qualification Specialist at a DME company (this means I read a lot of medical chart notes). I can Google like a mofo. But I am not a doctor. The medical stuff in this and coming chapters is not necessarily real! I'm picking and choosing what I need for the scene and timeline to work. There's a lot of "Google truth" behind the concept I've come up with but then I just made stuff up. Just nod along and enjoy the show! :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gold wasn’t angry anymore. He was gloating. “I’m not just a big deal in Thailand, Vira. Soon, I”m going to be a big deal in all of Asia. I want you with me when I hit the big time. They’ll love you in Shanghai.”</p><p>Hearing yet another language that was not his native English just made Ram’s head hurt. He didn’t mind tasting the new foods he was served but he had no interest in seeing what else the city had to offer. All he wanted to do was get this job done and go back to the tiny condo filled with plants. He wanted to scoop King up in his arms and just hold him tightly, whispering words into the skin and bones and muscles of his body until every part of King was aware of his intent to never leave him again.</p><p>It bothered him that no one had asked him to fight. Most conversations he had been around so far were in a mix of English and Mandarin so he knew he wasn’t picking up every detail of the deal Gold was trying to make but nothing in it seemed to include him. If he wasn’t here to fight, what was he here for?</p><p>By the fourth night, he thought he finally figured it out. Yet another suit was laid out for him and someone came in to fuss with his hair. When Gold came to the door, he got up to follow him to the elevator. This time, instead of staying silent, he waited for the doors to shut before he asked, “Why exactly am I here?”</p><p>“I needed someone pretty on my arm.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you bring one of your girlfriends? I’m not arm candy. That’s on the list, P'Gold. I’m not an escort.”</p><p>The older man narrowed his eyes, his lips thinned and irritated. “No one’s asking you to do anything but sit there and stay sullen and silent. I just need them to see what sort of talent I can bring to the table.”</p><p>“They haven’t seen me fight.”</p><p>“There’s a match set for Friday. You win, I’ll take you home in style. You lose and I might just give you your passport back for I send you home on a bus.”</p><p>“If I win, I fly back on Friday night.”</p><p>Gold let out a bark of laughter. “That’s not even a full week of work.”</p><p>“You’re guaranteed a win.” He said it with all the conviction in his heart, sparking a flare of greed in Gold’s eyes. “But I want my phone back.”</p><p>“Deal. On one condition.” The spark of greed was growing into an inferno that Ram didn’t like to see. If he wasn’t careful, he was never going to get free of this man’s desires. “You sign a new contract.”</p><p>Ram let out a long, slow breath. This was both the protection and the curse he hadn’t been looking forward to. “Our agreement was that I would fight for you until I paid off my debt. We have a very clear contract about how long I am indebted to you and for what price. Are you trying to break the contract?”</p><p>“That was for Thailand. I want you to sign a new one for Shanghai.”</p><p>“And what if I say no?”</p><p>“I have your passport.”</p><p>Ram felt nauseated at the idea of being trapped in a strange country without knowing any of the language or having any contacts. He was up against his worst nightmare. The person who might have to save him was the person who put him in this mess in the first place.</p><p>“Give me back my phone. We’ll talk about this new contract later.”</p><p>***</p><p>One of Gold’s guards knocked on his door later that night with a message and Ram’s phone. The note simply said, <b>You have 12 hours.</b></p><p>It didn’t matter that it might not be polite to call so late. As wrong as everything was right now, he just needed to hear King’s voice. His fingers twitched with anxiety and excitement as he powered on the phone and found King’s contact.</p><p>“Ram?” It wasn’t King’s voice that answered. “Are you already back? P'King said you wouldn’t be back until the weekend.”</p><p>“Duen? Where’s King?”</p><p>His friend murmured something to someone else before answering, “Do you trust me?”</p><p>“Where is King?” Ram roared with the force of every one of his muscles. The sound scorched the back of his throat, leaving a fire in its wake.</p><p>“I’m taking you to him. It’s going to be about twenty minutes. Bohn is getting the car. Where are you?”</p><p>“Shanghai.” There was stunned silence on the other end of the line. “Where’s King? What’s going on?”</p><p>Duen was speaking again, relaying Ram’s side of the conversation to Bohn. All Ram could do was pace, his hands still shaking so much he could barely hold the phone up to his correctly. He could hear a car engine roar to life and then the sound of a car door slamming.</p><p>“We’re on our way. P'King can tell you the full details but I need you to listen to me very carefully. P'King gave me his phone so I could tell you this myself. He didn’t want to leave you a message or have you worry because he wasn’t available. We weren’t sure when you’d be back.” Duen took a deep, shaky breath. “P'King’s in the hospital.”</p><p>Ram fell to his knees. Miraculously, the phone stayed in his hand and pressed up to his ear. “What?”</p><p>“He found out for sure what was going on right after you left. They need to operate on his brain but he’s in isolation right now. Something about getting his immune system healthy before they attempt this surgery. He couldn’t take his phone with him so he left it with me. We had a plan.” He paused. “Are you still there? Are you okay?”</p><p>“No.” The word barely came out as the muscles in his throat tried to close off his airway. His chest felt heavy, like something was embedded deep, keeping him from breathing.</p><p>“We’re almost there. Bohn and I tested out the video chat yesterday. It should work fine. You just have to stick with me for a few more minutes. Okay?”</p><p>Nodding was the only thing he could do. At this point, he couldn’t even get a hum out of his closed throat.</p><p>“Ram? I’m going to have you breathe with me. Can you do that? Ready?”</p><p>His friend walked him through some breathing and counting exercises. Even though there were a lot of other sounds in the background, Ram tried to only listen to Duen’s calming voice. They’d done this before. Maybe not to this level of panic but it was still enough to keep him from cresting over into dangerous territory.</p><p>“I’m going to hang up now and call you back with the video on? Okay?” </p><p>Before he could answer, the phone went dead. Great gulping sobs poured out of Ram’s body as he pulled the phone away, continuing to stare at it until the notification popped up again. He answered, barely able to swipe to connect correctly.</p><p>Suddenly, King’s face stared back at him from the little screen. He was fuzzy and his voice sounded weird but it was King talking to him. Smiling at him.</p><p>“Can you hear me?” King asked. All Ram could do was nod. Any other response and he would start sobbing too violently. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this when I saw you. I didn’t expect to hear back from the specialist so soon. The day after the camping trip, my grandmother took me to the hospital. She said I wasn’t acting right and she was concerned that the head wound might be infected. It wasn’t but the doctors there were concerned and wanted me to go for follow-up when I got home.”</p><p>King tapped the window he was behind. “Ram, are you sitting down?”</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>“Are you breathing? You don’t look good.”</p><p>“Panic attack,” Duen supplied from off-screen. The screen moved so that he was now looking at his friend. “Ram, count out 10 breaths. No, out loud. And what’s your favorite color?” </p><p>“Gray.”</p><p>“Good.” The screen went back to King’s face. “If his eyes get wide again like that, you just have to get him thinking on something more specific and solid. Numbers are good.”</p><p>“Follow up?” Ram asked, hoping to get the conversation back on track.</p><p>King splayed his hand on the window like he wanted to be stroking Ram’s face, his eyes soft and sad. “I went to see P'Thara at the school clinic, admitting I’d been dizzy. He scheduled some tests and then I went to see a specialist. The surgery is scheduled for next Monday. Will you be back by then?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” he wheezed. “P'Gold has my passport.”</p><p>“Bohn!” King called out. “Where’s your dad right now?”</p><p>There was a rumble of conversation that Ram didn’t follow much. King, Duen and Bohn were having an excited conversation about dual citizenship, the Chinese government, and the Australian consulate.</p><p>“Are you going to be able to keep your phone? Ram? That question was for you. Bohn’s father will need to contact you. Will you have your phone with you?”</p><p>“I won’t let them take it again.”</p><p>“Good. We’ll get you home, love. Hang in there, okay?”</p><p>Ram could only stare at King, drinking in every detail he could see through the small screen. His brain started clicking information into place, just a little slow on the uptake now that the panic attack was subsiding.</p><p>“There’s a fight on Friday. He said if I win, I can come home on Friday. I promised I would win.”</p><p>Bohn interrupted. “Do you actually have any binding contract with this guy? Did you borrow money or something? Is that why you’re fighting for him?”</p><p>“Didn’t borrow it. Working toward a sum. He pays me weekly.”</p><p>“Do you have a copy of the contract?”</p><p>“It’s with my mum.”</p><p>That seemed to satisfy Bohn. “I’ll have my mother look it over, see if we can’t legally get you out of it. This is not something you want to have over your head. It was sort of stupid to get caught up with him in the first place.”</p><p>“Not much choice,” Ram murmured, dropping his eyes.</p><p>King clucked at him. “You did what you thought was best. Let Bohn’s parents help you get away from this guy. We’ll figure out the rest from there.”</p><p>“Can’t stop,” Ram replied, trying not to let go of the hope that his friends were providing but he didn’t see a way out yet. Not the one they wanted him to see.</p><p>Duen began to explain the situation with his parents, pausing to answer the questions King had. When he was done, King stared straight toward Ram again. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>The words didn’t just encompass the current situation. Ram could feel King apologizing for everything leading up to this, as well. He offered up a small smile which made King smile back.</p><p>Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “Oh, I forget to also tell you that I visited the dogs. We aren’t friends yet. Maybe acquaintances.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Duen started to laugh. “It’s true. It’s all true. He came to visit them and even sat outside with them for a bit... all by himself.”</p><p>“Do you have to make me sound quite so much like a toddler?”</p><p>“Because sometimes you are. Wait... Bohn is letting me know he's got the car and is outside. I’m going to leave the phone here but I’ll tell the nurse to come get it and plug it in later, right? Chin up, Ram. We’ll help you figure this out.”</p><p>King nodded and smiled off camera for a moment before pulling his attention back to the screen. His smile softened. “You look better. I’m sorry for the fright I gave you. There was no other way I could think of to get the information to you. Are you very angry with me?”</p><p>Before he even thought about it, Ram was shaking his head. He paused, though, to think through his emotions and began to shake it again. “You didn’t know about this until after you couldn’t reach me. The stuff before... that was before. We can’t go back and change who we were to each other. You didn’t tell me about the hospital and I didn’t tell you about my dad leaving my mum. We just have to move forward and promise to communicate.”</p><p>“So many words,” King teased gently before he scooted closer to the window separating him from being able to pick up the phone. His sigh was heart-wrenching. “Communication isn’t something either of us is very good at. You have trouble with words and I have trouble with emotions.”</p><p>“You remind me to use words. I’ll remind you to not to hide behind your smile.”</p><p>“Sometimes I don’t know I’m doing it. The urge to seem happy is too strong. But you have days like that, too. When the words get all clogged up inside.”</p><p>The two of them were silent, staring at each other like they hadn’t been able to in a long while. From somewhere in the hospital, a machine started to beep, reminding Ram that King probably shouldn't be hunched over near the window but should probably be in bed.</p><p>“So?”</p><p>King nodded. “They’ll come looking for me soon. The phone has about twenty percent before it shuts off. Want to keep me company until then?”</p><p>“Can we keep talking like this? Tomorrow?”</p><p>“It’s a date.” When King started to laugh at the absurdity of the statement, Ram felt something inside begin to soften. All the tension in his body started to fade at that beautiful sound. It was the most pure sound he’d ever heard King make. In this instant, it didn't matter that the two of them hundreds of miles apart and the sound of a hospital was their background music. King sounded happy.</p><p>
  <i>I always want his laugh to sound like that. I want to be able to be near him when he makes that sound again. He’s the one. For always.</i>
</p><p>“What did you say?” King asked suddenly and Ram realized he’d said the last sentence out loud.</p><p>This was one of those times they just talked about, when the words got clogged up in his throat. He normally stayed silent out of fear of being misunderstood, because he didn’t know the language or he didn’t quite understand the situation correctly. Sometimes he stayed silent because the people he was with didn’t deserve to hear his thoughts. Sometimes it was just too much effort to say them all out loud and then deal with the consequences.</p><p>But it would never be like that with King. He’d already proven that he didn’t mind if Ram struggled with the language or sometimes had to speak in English because that was the only way he could think the thought. King would always understand him and would always deserve his words and his time.</p><p>“For always,” Ram said again, smiling back broadly.</p><p>“I like that. For always.”</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. We fight until the end</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Friends are good to have but not everyone is so lucky as to get a friend who can truly pull them out of a bad spot. Ram didn't know what he would have done without P'Bohn's help. </p><p>(This is a Ram chapter, out of order. I realized I still had Ram things to do!)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bohn, as it turned out, had amazing parents. As he explained on the plane ride home, “They’re never home but that’s okay. This will make the fourth time they’ve pulled one of my friends out of a legal jam. Sometimes it pays to know two people who know their way around international law.”</p><p>What were the odds, really? By the afternoon before the fight, Ram had his passport back and Gold had been warned about trying to get Ram to fulfill anything but what was already strictly written down in the original contract. </p><p>“You made a promise and that’s what makes it binding,” Bohn’s father had explained to him. “In the future, you shouldn’t tie yourself up like that. You left too much dangling. If he tries to come after you for breach of contract, come see me and I’ll tie him up in court for years.”</p><p>Bohn’s mother had handed over his passport, fixed his collar, and told him he needed to eat more. When Ram had looked at Bohn, speechless and wide-eyed, the older boy had just laughed. “I can’t do anything about that. Sorry. She may be the best lawyer money can buy but she’s also still a mother.”</p><p>After much discussion, all three of them stayed for the fight. Ram had been the one trying to get them to go back home, his gratitude warring with his anxiety. This part of his life was far too distasteful to share with people like Bohn’s family with their multiple degrees and pedigree. When it became apparent they were going to stay, Ram pulled Bohn aside.</p><p>“I don’t mean to be impolite but please make them leave, P’Bohn.”</p><p>“You fight in front of a crowd all the time. Why is this different?” For a moment, Bohn watched him grow more and more uncomfortable. “Wait. Are you embarrassed to have them see you fight?”</p><p>“It’s not... not something....” Ram sighed deeply, searching for words. For King, he would work on saying things out loud but it was a hard habit to break. “My mother thinks it’s distasteful that I enjoy fighting.”</p><p>A hand landed on Ram’s shoulder, making him look back up at someone he was rapidly starting to consider a friend. “I wouldn’t exactly say you’re enjoying it. It’s a means to an end. Besides, my parents aren’t like that. They don’t mind being here and don’t look down on you for doing this. It’ll be a night out for the two of them. They don’t get to relax all that often. You’re doing them a favor.”</p><p>Now that he felt this wasn’t something that was going to cause more adult condescension about his life choices, Ram felt that he was able to relax. In a matter of hours, win or lose, he would be on his way back to King. He really wanted to win, though. There was a lot of anger and fear that he needed to get out of his system before he stepped fully away from this life.</p><p>Gold was not happy that night when he came into the locker room. “You’ll still win?” was all he said, waiting for Ram’s nod before he narrowed his eyes one last time before walking out into the auditorium. This was unlike anywhere Ram had ever been before. He’d walked through the empty room before, amazed at the size, but now it was full of people, the cacophony of conversation nearly pushing him back through the door.</p><p>This was not his sort of scene. It was too bright. Too noisy. Too... blood thirsty. People were already cheering for him like he was a gladiator going out to fight a lion. The thought left him feeling very lonely. </p><p>He pushed on toward the raised platform in the middle of the crowd, more than eager to have this over. This would not be something he would allow a second time, no matter the price. He’d rather work at the corner grocer’s for a few cents and some old fruit before coming back here again.</p><p>“Hey, Ai’Ning!”</p><p>The familiar name suddenly made Ram remember his surroundings. He looked around, wondering who would be using those words in Shanghai. Bohn was pushing through the crowd, waving his phone.</p><p>“Someone wants to say something to you.”</p><p>Ram took the phone, confused by what exactly was happening. He couldn’t help smiling when he saw King’s face pressed up against the familiar window. “I know I don’t have much time but good luck,”  King yelled to be heard over the crowd he could hear through the speakers. “Bohn’s going to record the fight so I’ll be sure to see everything. Just in case the connection is poor. But I’ll be cheering for you.”</p><p>“Give me ten minutes. I’ll call you back.”</p><p>“I won’t get mad if it takes you fifteen. Stay powerful.”</p><p>Ram couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he handed the phone back. He climbed into the fighting ring in a slight daze as he struggled to find his usual gruff demeanor. When his opponent looked over, Ram gave in to the impulse and grinned at him. He watched as the other man’s frown deepened, a tremor appearing over one of his eyes.</p><p>That tremor was the spot he aimed for first.</p><p>From his seat in the front row, Bohn held up his phone for twelve minutes and 57 seconds.. The only audio was his cheers for Ram and sarcastic commentary for his opponent. After Ram had sent his opponent to the mat, he stumbled to the ropes and held up both arms, his smile still wide no matter the pain it caused his busted lip. “I’m coming home,” he yelled enthusiastically for the camera.</p><p>Later, Bohn’s mother wiped away a bit of blood that was still oozing out of a cut on his cheek, fixed his collar, and told him he had a wonderful right hook. Bohn’s father was busy counting the money he’d made from the bet he’d placed. He gave most of it to Ram as they got into the car taking them to the airport.</p><p>“Phi, you should keep it. I haven’t even been able to pay you for all the help you gave me.”</p><p>The man had a striking resemblance to his handsome son so when he smirked, it was like dealing with his son. “That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. You have a gift. When Bohn told us you were good, I thought he was just being nice to a friend but you’re the real deal.”</p><p>“You told them I was good?” he asked Bohn with an incredulous look. “But our match was a tie.”</p><p>“Don’t you think I figured out that you were holding back? You could have pounded me into the pavement within a minute. Let’s not tell Duen, though. He thinks I’m actually in your league. It works in my favor.”</p><p>Ram threw back his head and laughed, the sound surprising everyone in the car, including himself. It felt good, though. He tucked the moment away, eager to share it with King later.</p><p>It floored him that later was getting closer and closer. They were set to take off within the hour. Even with the time difference, he should be at the hospital before dawn. He couldn't tell if he was more excited or anxious. Or just plain scared that life wasn't going to smooth out just yet.</p><p>***</p><p>Ram had expected some resistance from the hospital staff since they were coming in this early but he’d only been waved through by a pretty nurse as Bohn stopped to talk to her. Before the other boy left, he came in to check on Ram.</p><p>“Everything okay?”</p><p>The glass felt good against Ram’s swollen cheek. For the past twenty minutes, he’d been leaning in the exact spot he’d decided King would look when he opened his eyes. Or, at the very least, the tall lurking boy would be hard to miss in the otherwise empty room.</p><p>“He hasn’t woken up yet. Figured he needed to sleep.”</p><p>“Whatever they have him on knocks him out for a good portion of the day. Either his mom or his sister will be in with breakfast. They usually leave enough food to last throughout the day but they still come back in the evening with something else. We’ve been leaving leftovers in the fridge down the hall for everyone to enjoy. Kala, the nurse who is on duty, can show you where it is. She’s working until late morning. Duen made a list of all the other people you’ll encounter. It’s on the table over there.”</p><p>Ram nodded his head, not sure he was going to remember anything Bohn said. It was obvious that Bohn understood that because he touched Ram’s shoulder to get his attention.</p><p>“One last thing. Sort of important.” He waited until Ram’s eyes focused on him. “There are side effects to the stuff he’s taking and because of the hematoma. Some of them are predictable and are on the sheet. The unpredictable ones,” he shrugged, “well, just remind yourself it’s part of the process.”</p><p>“You all haven’t wanted to worry me, have you?”</p><p>“Sorry, Nong. It was all part of that stupid plan Duen and King came up with.”</p><p>“It was enough to be aware that everything was being handled. Thank you.”</p><p>The hug Bohn wrapped him in for a few seconds was nearly Ram’s undoing but he took a few deep breaths to settle his emotions before the other boy pulled away. “It’s going to be what it’s going to be. Call if you need us. We’ll leave you alone today unless you call. That’s all I’ll be able to keep Duen away for, though.”</p><p>“Expected.”</p><p>“Get some sleep.”</p><p>Ram just nodded. He wasn’t going to sleep until King opened his eyes. They both knew this. Didn’t stop it from being a nice reminder that there were other people in this with him.</p><p>For another hour, he stood against the glass. Sometimes, his breath would fog it up and he’d wipe it down with his sleeve. Sometimes, he’d let it disappear on it’s own after he turned his head a little more away. In his head, he was offering up prayers and petitions to every god and goddess and deity he’d ever heard of. After the last week, he was no longer willing to offer up a trade or an offering. All he could hope for was that he and King could find favor because of this life and whatever other life they might have led before this one.</p><p>He was startled out of one of those prayers when his brain registered that King was stirring. At first, it was just subtle head movements but then his face began to scrunch up, like he smelled something bad.</p><p>“P’King,” Ram said, hoping to get King’s attention so he’d open his eyes.</p><p>Slowly, King’s eyes did flutter open and close a few times. A slow smile erupted on his lips. “Ram?”</p><p>Ram nodded, his hand pressed to the glass as he tried to get closer. “I’m home.”</p><p>“I’m glad.”</p><p>And then King started screaming.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The color blue is gone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They say that his brain needs time to heal, that the pathways need to reroute and learn a new map of who King is.</p><p>King just mutters an equation at them like it's an insult and wonders if they will ever understand.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is inspired by a story that a lady in my writer's group told me last week (when I was asking them for ideas for this "arc") about one of her friends who had a similar surgery for a subdermal hematoma - and lost the number 3. She eventually got it back but it made her life interesting for awhile as she was an accountant.</p><p>I aslo deliberately changed tense in this chapter because it felt like a very "present" place for King to be. Now I will struggle to get back to "past", where I live.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They told him the surgery was a success. Sometimes, King lets himself believe them. On the good days, he notices that his eyesight is better... even if he can’t see the color they tell him is blue. But a person can live without blue, he tells himself, smiling through the constant therapy and evaluations by a team of doctors who call him by name like he’s their best friend... and he can’t tell them apart. Could he ever? Maybe that’s not a thing that he’s missing.</p><p>There are the days that are just not great. Not good. Not bad. Just... a day in the life of this new King. Maybe he makes it six steps instead of yesterday’s five. He lets himself celebrate without thinking that six steps won’t even get him from the bed in his condo to the kitchen sink. Because it’s progress. Because it made Ram smile.</p><p>On the good days, Ram has soft smiles that he tries to hold in because he’s getting too happy. The fear is present in his eyes, though. Clear toward the back where it’s plotting revenge. It doesn't mind the good days because it has more to rip away.</p><p>On just not great days, Ram’s smile is broad and the fear is easier to see. He holds King’s hand tightly, using words to encourage and cheer and to fill all the quiet times when they both might fall into the trap of their thoughts.</p><p>In a cruel twist of fate, Ram does most of the talking right now. While King can read everything on the page, he can’t get his thoughts to line up into words or sentences or concepts. His brain is still working as fast as it ever has, spewing out math equations like bullets when asked. There’s a whole team of doctors who are currently monitoring nothing but what comes out of his mouth and from his pen. If he could write a sonnet to the way Ram snores a little as he sleeps in the chair next to the bed, he would fill up a thousand pages.</p><p>Instead, he just writes math equations that don’t mean anything to anyone else. He wishes he could tell Ram that these are part of the Story of Us that he’s been working through. There’s the first equation that he helped Ram with that fateful night when he worked up the courage to sit down next to him. There are extra 7s peppered through out because 7s look like fire.King likes to remember how warm Ram’s body was on that bench.</p><p>But Ram isn’t only made up of 7s. There are 3s in the fan of his eyelashes against his cheek and the way he always bows low whenever any of King’s family members enter the room. Both his sister and his mother adore him, making him special desserts that they demand he eats in front of them. When they leave, Ram drops to the floor and does push ups and sit ups until the nurses shoo him back to the chair.</p><p>There are 4s in the way Ram's breath hitches sometimes, like he’s physically pulling himself away from the edge of a panic attack that he can never get far enough away from. 4s are the meanest number. When the fear takes over in Ram’s eyes, King can only see 4s. When he writes the 4s in the story, they are villains and he pushes the pen into the paper so that there are tears in places. This is his anger, bleeding through onto the page, for all the pain that Ram is going through.</p><p>His own pain is a round 0 with a slash through it so that it’s different from the void of the letter O. He remembers the letter O. It looms in front of him when he’s trying to find words. Any words. All that comes out is an O, his lips pinched together and confused. That is not the sound he intended to make. Never that sound.</p><p>But 0s are everywhere, even when they aren’t written on the page. They are invisible, waiting to leap out when the day seems like it might be a good day. Ready to pull him down toward the O.</p><p>He hates that the 0 and the O are friends, always in cahoots with each other. Someday, he hopes the Story of Us could be written without any 0s.</p><p>From time to time, Ram kisses his cheek. Most of the time, he strokes the back of his hand or the side of his neck. Those times are 8. Those are times when he forgets about the pain for a little while. It’s not gone. Never gone. But Ram makes him forget that it’s there. He wishes that Ram would kiss him more often, wants to tell him that he hates the opportunities they’re wasting, both of them alone in this big room with just one bed and a set time when people visit. They could be doing so much more with the 8 waiting on the edge of the page.</p><p>6 and 9 are his friends. They seem interchangeable, like you could just flip one over and get another but 6 and 9 hate that. Just like his friends hate when he smiles at them as they talk, doing their best to fill the silence that was never there before. King was always the one who filled those silences for them. Sometimes they walk in as 9s, able to adjust to the friend they find. Other times, they’re too much of a 6 and they leave, patting Ram’s arm as they leave. </p><p>Those are the times that King needs the 8 to fill the void the 6 leaves behind.</p><p>2222222... the nephews are the 2s. Joyful 2s who say random things and do random things and just generally brighten everything in the room with their laughter. They climb on Ram like he’s their personal wall, perching on his shoulders to play pirates or sailors or whatever they decide they want to be. Ram’s smile brightens when he sees the boys. They talk now, about video games and anime and anything the boys want to talk about.</p><p>Ruj is a 2 but he’s quieter when he comes in the room. Having dealt with a brother who didn’t use words often, he’s an expert at reading expressions and listening to what isn’t said. RIght now, he is one of the most comforting people for King. When his brother walks into the hospital room, Ram settles back with a soft sigh, as if he can finally have the night off from his own words. The three of them are comfortable together, like a family unit.</p><p>What is really missing from the family unit is the dogs. Now that King has accepted them as acquaintances and not just panting menaces, he misses them. One of the words he can still say without too much stress is “Ro-Rue.” Unfortunately, Ram has come to see this King worrying that he’s spending too much time in the hospital room when really all he really wants is updates on how the dogs are doing.</p><p>In those moments, Ram becomes a 1. He is single and defiant. There is no way for King to battle through his defenses. One day, he will figure out how to climb over the barricades and strip Ram’s entire being of any and every 1. He will fling those 1s at his 0s, letting them carry each other away. For now, he has to be wary of the 1s in his life.</p><p>On the bad days, King chants “one, one, one, one” under his breath like a battle cry.</p><p>On the bad days, there is fire in his lungs and rage at his fingertips.</p><p>On the bad days, Ram slips out the door and often doesn’t come back for several hours. The 0s and Os do battle for dominance when he leaves, pushing out all the air in the room with their bulging presence.</p><p>On the bad days, King doesn’t need words. He is made up of numbers.</p><p>There are still too many bad days.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The numbers that make up us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everything is falling into place for King to get discharged from the hospital. Ram is trying to go with the flow but he feels like he might be getting left out in the cold. But he's okay with that if it's what is best for King.</p><p>King doesn't agree.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The numbers came back! I couldn't resist!!!!</p><p>This idea was inspired by all the fanart I've been looking at recently! The fan meeting has certainly made it more visible and easier to find! I love all of it! I can't draw but I can write so that's what I do to say "Thank you".</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was no way, at this time, King could navigate all the stairs in and around the condo. Even though they lived on a single floor, there were still the stairs in and out of the building and then down to the bus stop or the car park. With therapies and examinations scheduled into next month, King needed to be able to come and go easily. The only option, and Ram knew this in his heart this was true, was for King to move in with his mother again.</p><p>As much as King’s mother loved him and loved that he loved her son, Ram felt weird about inviting himself along. It might have been implied that he was to come, as well, but it was never said. Even through everything they’ve been through, Ram still needs those words.</p><p>As much as he was using words, there were still things Ram couldn’t say. There were certain situations that made his muscles tighten and his breath come too fast. Talking to King about what he was actually feeling was the main problem he was having. Always before, King would read him and tell him back the story he saw on Ram’s face. For now, King was only a reader. King as storyteller has been silenced.</p><p>They sat on the hospital bed, side by side, on the last day in the hospital. There was a ream of paper on the chair, filled with all the things to watch for and all the things that still needed to be done. Ram hated the sight of it. He was already feeling inadequate at taking care of himself. What if he messed it up? What if he broke King even further?</p><p>As if reading his thoughts, KIng put a hand on his arm. His smile, as always, was bright. “Ram,” he whispered, proud of the word he’d added back to his growing vocabulary. There was a pause as they both waited to see if he would be able to say more or if that would be the only bit of water through the dam.</p><p>Instead, King let a breath of air out through his nose in exasperation but handed him a sheet of paper. These were the notes that Ram liked to get. He didn’t know exactly what they meant yet but he understood it was King trying to communicate.</p><p>This wasn’t a string of equations, dancing around the page like they understood the universe. This was a picture made up of numbers. They huddled together like splashes of paint, each one telling a little bit of a story that Ram could finally understand. First, he traced his hand over a very stylized version of himself. He could see himself with the soft hair that Ram preferred and the school uniform tie he hated to wear. </p><p>“Is this me?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper as he leaned in closer to King, his fingers hovered over the drawing like he might be able to glean some new information just by touching the ink. “P’King, did you draw me?”</p><p>“Yes yes yes yes yes yes.” King’s eyes were lit with a fire from deep within his soul. Whatever Ram had discovered, this was something King had been trying to say for awhile.</p><p>“The numbers mean something, don’t they? Not just math.”</p><p>“Story.” King pointed to Ram and then to himself. “Ram. Me.”</p><p>Then he pointed to shapes that didn’t look like numbers at first. When Ram looked harder, having a better idea of what it was looking at, he noticed they were eights that had been reshaped to look hearts.</p><p>And then King did something he’d been doing for days. He pulled Ram’s hand in close and began to trace an eight on his palm. The revelation stopped Ram’s heart for a moment.</p><p>“I love you, too.” Ram couldn’t stop the tears from leaking out of his eyes as he pulled his hand back so he could wrap this oh so precious man into a proper hug. King had been saying that to him at every opportunity. When was the last time he had said the words? So much had pushed that emotion away but it should have stayed at the very front, acting like a gatekeeper to only let in the most important thoughts and feelings</p><p>At first, when King pulled away, he thought he’d gone too far. Instead, he drew Ram’s attention back to the paper and touched another of the figures drawn of circles and slashes. King touched his own chest.</p><p>“This one looks sad,” Ram pointed out, rubbing a finger over the ink-saturated paper where the numbers had run into each other in an almost violent way. “Or in pain?”</p><p>“Me.” To make sure his word was understood, King touched his chest. “Me.”</p><p>“You’re in pain?” Ram tried to pull away, suddenly hyper-aware once again that they were in a hospital and the surgery had only been a week ago. “Do I need to call-”</p><p>Before he could finish the sentence, King placed a finger on his lips to quiet him. Very deliberately, he took a deep breath, nodding at Ram to do the same. They breathed together several times before King pointed to a different part of the picture.</p><p>Around the picture he already knew to be himself was a halo of 4s. King tapped Ram's mouth again with the same finger. “Four.” He smoothed a warm finger over Ram’s eyebrows, smoothing the tension he was carrying there. “Four.” He pressed a hand on Ram’s chest, right over his heart. “Four.” </p><p>“I’m afraid.” He might not have admitted it out loud if King wasn’t trying so hard to make a point or show him something. Besides, it wasn’t so much admitting it as unlocking the mystery of this picture. But King wasn’t wrong. He was always afraid. King seemed to understand that because the 4s were a barrier around the Ram form, thick and pointed and evil-looking.</p><p>King began to trace something else that Ram hadn’t noticed before. The shape of the Ram figure was a number one. Over and over, he traced the shape until Ram said, “I’m a one?” King began to trace the barricade of 4s and it suddenly made a little more sense.. “Surrounded by fear?”</p><p>“Me. Ram.” There was a pattern to what King was touching, over and over again as he patiently tried to get his point across. First to the King character. Next to the Ram character, tracing over the 1 before circling around the 4s.</p><p>“King’s in pain. Ram is afraid. No, being held back by his fear because it’s surrounding him. He’s not made of fear. The fear is around him.”</p><p>The glow coming from King was almost hard to look at as Ram struggled forward. Whatever he was discovering was the right path to what King wanted to say. Satisfied that they were able to move to the next concept. King fluttered the piece of paper at him again before pulling it back and drawing in an impossibly small 4 in the line that surrounded Ram. When he fluttered the paper in front of Ram’s face, he couldn’t help but back away suddenly.</p><p>This made King let out an irritated huff of air through his nose before moving back into Ram’s space. He pointed to the tiny 4 and held up the paper at a slower rate. This time, Ram was able to look closer to see that the single 4 was not actually alone. The thick line around the Ram figure was made of very tightly compact 4s, standing back to back like soldiers.</p><p>Like prison guards.</p><p>“This line of fours... around me... is my fear holding me... back?”</p><p>King bit his lip, his face showing the way he was searching his intelligent brain for a solution. When he finally seemed to figure something out, he began to trace the line of 4s as they snaked their way around the Ram figure.</p><p>“The fours... they make an important shape.” </p><p>“Yes.” King threw the pen up in the air in celebration. “One.”</p><p>“They make the shape of the one around me.”</p><p>When King’s eyes slid shut, it was hard to tell if this was over or if he was just resting. As his eyes opened again, Ram realized he was seeing a sense of satisfaction he hadn’t seen on King’s face in a really long time. It was the look he use to get when he'd conquered a hard mathematical concept or finished writing a paper he didn’t want to write.</p><p>“Keep going,” Ram encouraged. “I want to understand.”</p><p>Very gently, King picked up Ram’s closest hand, shoving the piece of paper in his other. He began to trace the line of 4s but with Ram’s finger this time. “One,” he said slowly, emphasizing the word.</p><p>“It's me. Afraid. In a one.”</p><p>He wasn’t at the concept yet, judging from the growl King made low in his throat. As with any animal making angry noises, Ram stilled his body, keeping his attention on King’s eyes.</p><p>Ram’s finger was suddenly being poked into King’s chest with enough force to make both of them wince. “Me.”</p><p>Then he pointed back at the Ram figure. “No me.”</p><p>Over and over again, he repeated himself as Ram struggled to figure out the concept. Whatever he was trying to say was about the Ram figure and not Ram himself. The Ram forced in by fear to be a one.</p><p>“Alone. Right? Am I right? Alone because of fear. Fear makes me a one. Makes me alone.”</p><p>King nodded slowly. “No me.” And then he let go of Ram’s hand and pushed at the area of over his heart. “Home.”</p><p>“You want to go home? We will. They’re-”</p><p>A palm against his own chest. “Me.”  Pointing at the Ram figure. “No me.” Thumping Ram’s chest. “Home.”</p><p>Real person. Mystical figure made of numbers. Real person.</p><p>“When I’m afraid, I don’t let you in. When I do, we’re together.”</p><p>“Home,” King insisted again with his limited vocabulary.</p><p>“Together, we’re home.”</p><p>King leapt forward, his arms wrapping around Ram’s neck before he came in for a deep kiss. The kind of kiss that Ram hadn’t realized he’d been missing quite as much as he had. “Why do you only kiss me like that right after you get angry with me?” he asked quietly when King pulled back, licking his lips with a sigh of happiness.</p><p>“Eight,” King agreed with a nod of his head and that damned smirk that made Ram want to do anything and everything he asked.</p><p>“And you’ll tell me when you’re hurting, right? Because you’ve established that concept now so I want you to use it. If you overdo it, we’ll have to come back here.” Ram lifted King’s hand up to place a kiss in King’s palm. “Please don’t ever make me come back here.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>They sat in silence, both of the men lost in their own thoughts until suddenly King came to some sort of decision. Once again, he grabbed for Ram’s hand but this time it was to hold it tightly to his own chest.</p><p>“Me. Ram. Ro-rue. Home.”</p><p>“You’re going to stay with-”</p><p>“No. Eight. Me. Ram. Ro-rue. Home.” Each word was emphasized with great care, filled with sub-text and meaning beyond just the simple word.</p><p>“Will your mother even let the dogs-”</p><p>“Me. Ram. Ro-rue. Home.” And then, after a beat, he sighed his eyes pleading now Ram to understand. “No four.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“No four!” King yelled, his eyebrows coming together in a scowl that had Ram suddenly anticipating another of those angry kisses.</p><p>“It will be easier if you’re at your mother’s house.” He let King beat on his chest, chanting numbers like a curse, until Ram finally captured King back into a hug, careful of the bandages and head wound as he tucked King’s head under his chin. “That’s all I’m going to say about it. I’ll back you on this. We’ll go home. But we let her keep cooking for us.”</p><p>“Yes.”The discussion had obviously taken a lot out of King. He melted, as if he was boneless, against Ram’s chest so that the only thing keeping him in place was Ram’s arms. Just when Ram thought maybe he’d gone to sleep, he heard him murmur, “Eight.”</p><p>“I love you, too.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Healing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>No four.<br/>Only eight.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>EIGHT MONTHS LATER</p><p>King flung his bag on the bench next to Ram and flung his body against Ram’s back, his arms circling around his boyfriend’s neck. “Sorry I’m late,” he murmured, trying to see what exactly it was that Ram was working on.</p><p>But Ram was being cagey, not letting him see what was on the paper in front of him on the table. Instead, he turned slightly so he could slide his arm around King and pull him onto his lap.</p><p>“And why were you late?” he growled, taking payment for the penalty in the form of a kiss. “Let me guess... more freshmen girls convinced you to let them see your scar?”</p><p>King only smiled and shook his head, enjoying this game. After all this time, he couldn’t believe how funny Ram could be when he let himself have the benefit of the words. There were still other things that he was very good at doing without words but King very much enjoyed these times, as well.</p><p>“”No? It must have been a professor who wanted you to teach their class for them next semester. They all do love to use and abuse your talents like that. I still haven’t gotten it right? Well, it must have been Tee pulling you into another meeting about the park beautification project.”</p><p>“How did you know?”</p><p>Ram held up his phone. “He let me know you’d be late to meet me this afternoon.”</p><p>“Still keeping tabs on me?”</p><p>He shook his head, his face solemn and sincere. “I swear, it’s not me. They call me. It’s your friends. Blame them. I tell them over and over again you know your limits but they feel the need to tell me where you are at every moment of the day.”</p><p>All Ram could do was sigh. He wished he knew his limits. He shouldn’t have let Tee talk him into joining the project in the first place but he’d loved the idea. There were just so many meetings. The last one he’d missed, they decided to use plants that weren’t correct for the climate or the soil. It could have been a disaster.</p><p>“Tired?” Ram asked, rubbing at his shoulders to ease some of the tension he was carrying simply because it was Wednesday. When he nodded, Ram leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “Three options. Rest here, and then I carry you to the bike. Or I carry you to the bike but we rest there for a bit before going home.”</p><p>“And the third?”</p><p>“I call a taxi and we ride the bus tomorrow because the bike will still be here.”</p><p>It wasn’t really an option because they didn’t have the money for an extravagance like taxis right now. He must look like hell if Ram was offering it up as a real suggestion. Which he was. Those eyes still couldn’t lie to him.</p><p>“How about Option Two but we stop at that bench in that little garden area by C Hall.”</p><p>“Let me guess. You need to look at a plant there.”</p><p>“Wrong!” King’s laugh bubbled up, full of pure delight. “I’m going to lie quietly on the bench and you’re going to check on a plant for me!”</p><p>Ram slowly picked up his things, making a show of putting them and King’s smaller bag into his bigger backpack. When all was ready, he pulled King to his feet. “Ready?”</p><p>It was second nature to ride on Ram’s back. No one gave them a second look anymore. It was just what they did. When the school year started, Ram had been strong enough to attend classes but he still got tired very quickly. Ram had worked hard to coordinate his own classes so they were on campus at relatively the same time, coming and going together. There was only a day here and there when Bohn drove King home so Ram was able to stay on campus a little longer.</p><p>There was not a single bench on campus that King hadn’t slept on at some point, his head pillowed on Ram’s lap. Sometimes Ram read out loud from a one of their class books. Sometimes he read text conversations their friends were having. Sometimes he sang.</p><p>And sometimes he was silent, empty of words and thankful to have the opportunity to just sit for a moment and recharge. King burrowed in close during those times, his hand sneaking up under Ram’s shirt so he could touch the ink of his own name on the warm skin.</p><p>***</p><p>Ram came out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel through his damp hair. “King? Come to bed.”</p><p>“No.” </p><p>He was half asleep but King couldn’t bring himself to admit that he should have gone to bed an hour ago. Or two. Or maybe he should have stayed in bed this morning. He felt so tired his body was numb.</p><p>“Come to bed.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Some days, he was tired of asking for help. He could, and should, say the words and Ram would be beside him in an instant. But sometimes his pride was as tired as his muscles. So he picked fights, getting petty and mean.</p><p>“Come to bed.” The growl sounded harsh but King still glared up at him, using his last bit of strength to stick out his bottom lip and furrow his eyebrows like a child.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>And like a child, he soon found himself swept up into strong arms and thrown onto the bed. “I don’t have my pajamas on,” he whined.</p><p>“You can sleep in your dirty clothes until you learn your lesson.”</p><p>But Ram still helped him undress, muttering under his breath about stubborn children being worse than wet dogs. It was all part of the ritual, a chance to vent and let off steam on days when emotions and stress pressed in a little too close. No matter what, they still ended the night wrapped in each other’s arms. That never changed.</p><p>***</p><p>Ram’s phone sometimes rang. It was odd when it happened because Ram’s phone never rang. No one dared call him or they’d meet with an irritated silence. Even his mother had learned to send a chat request to him, sure to receive a response right away.</p><p>One person didn’t understand </p><p>One person would never understand.</p><p>Ram would pick up the phone, look at the caller name as if he wasn’t already sure of what he would see, and set it back down.</p><p>“Let me block the number,” King had suggested after one evening when his phone had rang four different times. “Or answer for you.”</p><p>But Ram had just shook his head, lowering his eyes... in shame? Embarrassment? Anger? King was never sure because he didn’t push at the emotions.</p><p>All he could do was what he’d always been able to do. He turned off both their phones and led Ram to the chair they’d place on the balcony. He’d set Ram down first before curling up in his lap, filling in all the empty places so they both fit. Silently, King would count to 50, giving Ram space for his own thoughts.</p><p>At the count of 51, King would begin to recite the Story of Us in all its original number glory. He’d never really told Ram exactly what he’d written in those first days and weeks and months. There had been a time, when the words came flowing back like a swollen river after a rainstorm, when he’d tried to put the story into words. They weren’t right, though. The story was meant to be told in numbers.</p><p>And so, on those days when Ram’s father tried to barge back into his life, King reminded Ram of how strong and brave he had been in those early days, carrying burdens that he should never have had to carry. He recited back Ram’s accomplishments in the exquisite detail that only the numbers could provide. </p><p>As his hands smoothed over planes of skin that were now his to touch freely, his poetry turned to their early attempts at understanding each other’s bodies, the laughter and tears as they struggled to understand how exactly they fit together. They both knew now but the numbers still remembered those early days when neither of them had anything but instinct and desire.</p><p>With his numbers, King reminded Ram that his mother and brother were safe now. There were still months when money was tight but they had friends and family to rely on for help. The one thing they all learned was the words they could use to ask for assistance. None of them were alone in this life.</p><p>Tonight, as the story was about to wrap up, Ram grabbed onto one of his roaming hands, pulling it up to his mouth to place a kiss on King’s palm. “I want to show you something. I’ve been working on it for awhile”</p><p>King ran a fingertip over one of Ram’s eyebrows. Since it was still new for Ram to talk about the things he held close, King settled back to give him the room to speak in his own time. “Show me.”</p><p>Ram pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it awkwardly with one hand but not fully showing what was on it. “I’ve been thinking of changing the family crest tattoo. Adding to it. Making it something different than what it is.”</p><p>“Can you do that once ink is placed?”</p><p>“Some of the ink will need to be removed and that’s a different process, but I’m tired of carrying this burden around. I’m not my father’s son. I never will be. I have to stop trying to be someone I’m not.”</p><p>For a moment, seeing all the emotion on Ram’s face was too much for King to see. He hid his face in Ram’s shoulder, leaving behind a trail of tears and kisses as he soothed his own overwhelming feelings of remorse and loss. When he settled back down, Ram smiled down at him.</p><p>“Early on, you planted this seed in my heart. I tried to destroy it. I ignored it. I stomped on it. I tried pulling it up. But it wouldn’t die. In fact, it grew so big that it began to circle my heart, wrapping around and around and around. I was convinced it was going to tug and pull and stop my heart.”</p><p>“Why would it do that?” King asked, suddenly concerned at the way this plant was treating something he held very dear.</p><p>“It never did. It was just my fear leading me to believe that it would ever do that. But I’m sorry for how I treated that vine of hope you planted in me. I’m sorry I didn’t nurture it better.”</p><p>King shook his head rapidly, hoping to dry the tears in his eyes before they flooded out. “I should have treated it better. I shouldn’t have walked away. I was flippant with your heart when I should have been reverent.”</p><p>The paper fluttered in Ram’s fingers as the wind tugged it. With a quick movement, King pulled it closer so the drawing was now more visible. “What is this?” he asked, not sure what it was that he was looking at.</p><p>“It’s the beast that roams my heart. It used to be a wild thing - always angry, always scared. When the vine started growing, it wasn’t sure what to do. It tried to destroy the vine but it came back.”</p><p>In the same chunky style as his shoulder tattoo, a dog raised it’s muzzle in a bowl, a leafy vine wrapped around it’s throat. The family crest tattoo that was already there made up most of the body but was definitely altered here and there with spots of white shaped like... numbers.</p><p>“Is that... a seven? And a three?”</p><p>Ram nodded, wiping at one of the tears on King’s cheek with his back of his own shaking finger. “They’re all there. All your numbers. The whole story. I worked them in the best I could. If you think there are better places for them, you can-” </p><p>The paper crumpled between them as KIng hooked his arms around Ram’s neck, his face pressed tight near Ram’s ear. “I can’t believe you’d do this. I mean, I can because you’re Ram and you’re wonderful but,” he pulled back to look up into Ram’s own watery eyes. “The person who understands me... will always be you.”</p><p>Ram let his head fall forward until their foreheads were touching. “Just remember I said it first.”</p><p>“But I said it best.” Using the lightest touch of the pad of this thumb, he smoothed over the spot on Ram’s neck that he loved to kiss. “The dog needs a moon to bark at. I think you should put one right there.”</p><p>“Made out of an 8?”</p><p>King’s lips quivered as they pressed against Ram’s. He wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve this man but he was thankful for every moment he got to spend with him. “I love you so much.”</p><p>Ram’s own smile was wide and satisfied. “Eight.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all for reading and for all the wonderful comments.</p><p>Many thanks to hhhellcat for following me to this fandom and then staying even though it was something new. I'm glad she's enjoyed her time here.</p><p>To Aster, for always reminding me that words are important and shouldn't be wasted. Also, that a handful of chapters are every bit as worthy as a hundred.</p><p>And to Ilex, who reminds me to use my words.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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